Head in the Clouds
by cclarasdoctor
Summary: A house fire leaves Clara badly physically injured, but the Doctor's condition is much different. He finds himself having no memory of who he is, where he is, or who that beautiful girl in the short brown dress is. Forbidden feelings arise, causing conflicting thoughts for the both of them. Can Clara help the Doctor remember who he was?
1. Explosion

**A/N: Hiya. Another 11 and Clara fic for ya :) So. This one is going to have some pretty slow updates part of the time. Its going to be long, and well thought out, so I'm gonna be taking extra time to edit each chapter before I post.**

**(Side note) To those of you following Perspective, I'll be posting chapter 3 tonight after I watch the episode for a second time :)**

**ROBOT OF SHERWOOD WAS AWESOME.**

**I canNOT believe they didn't take the opportunity to make Marion one of Clara's echoes. How perfect would that have been?**

**Okay I'll shut up. Enjoy the story :)**

_Chapter 1_

"Let me guess. It was too beautiful to live?"

Clara frowned as she rescued yet another souffle from the evil clutches that was the kitchen oven. Hours of preparation and bake time, adding up to what? Another heaping mess.

"Yes." She retorted, shooting Angie a glare.

"Just face it, Clara. You can't cook."

But she was ignoring her, already opening cupboards in search for another mixing bowl, gathering her ingredients for the third time today. "I _will _be Soufflè Girl. That's a promise."

Angie just rolled her eyes and went back to her homework. "Can I watch telly now?"

"Not til you finish your homework, missy."

"But _Artie _gets to!"

"Because he finished his homework right when he got home from school like I told him to!" Clara gave her a look.

"_Fiiiiiiiine._ Could you at least make me somethin' to eat? _Not _a soufflè."

Clara sighed. "Fine. Spaghetti?"

"Whatever."

She grabbed a pan from one of the lower kitchen cupboards and filled it with water, before placing it on the stove and igniting the flame.

Then she walked away, soon giving up on her third soufflè attempt, and completely forgetting about the flame that was slowly radiating the house.

* * *

><p>"Artie, Angie!" Clara called from her bathroom upstairs. "When the Doctor knocks, let 'im in! It's Wednesday and he'll be here soon!" She was dressed, her makeup was done, and she thought she looked pretty damn well. Not that she was trying or anything. Of course she wasn't. She just wanted to look decent. She never knew where the TARDIS might land them. She spun around once in her short brown dress, ran a hand through her hair, then nodded approvingly at her reflection.<p>

"Clara," Artie called back. "You making another soufflè?"

"No!" She shouted. "Why?"

"Smell something burning!" Angie replied for him. "Dammit, Clara! You burned the pan."

Clara gasped, hurrying down the stairs and into the kitchen. The aluminum saucepan was singed, smoke rising from the top. The stove was still turned on, yet no flame was produced. She let out a cough, wincing through the thick tang of the gas that had been steadily leaking throughout the house for hours. She anxiously flicked off the stove. "Angie, Artie, walk in here. Slowly."

Angie walked in, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Great job, Clara. Great job."

"How did we not notice the smell before?" Artie pulled his shirt up over his nose.

"Neither of you move. Oh, and Angie, watch the language." She eyed her.

"Shut up, _mum._"

"Listen, both of you. Gas has been streaming through the house, which means the entire area is tainted. The _tiniest _spark. The _tiniest _amount of friction, anything as small as a plug bein' jostled or socks rubbing up against the carpet could cause the house to blow. All right? Just stay here. I'm gonna open the doors and the windows, and then we're all gonna walk outside. Just hang on a mo."

An expression of unexpected terror swept across the children's faces.

All three spun around at the sound of a door clicking. The Doctor strolled in, clumsy and careless, slamming the door shut behind him. "Hello, Clara, Angie, Artie!"

"Doctor!" They all shouted at the same time.

"Er." The Doctor gave them a quizzical look, matching their odd, frozen stances. "Something wrong?"

"Left the stove on." Clara said slowly.

"Okay?" He sniffed the air. "Oh."

"Yeah. Let's just get out before we set anything off, all right?"

"No need!" The Doctor replied proudly, whipping out his sonic. "Built in extractor fan. Comes in handy." Clara didn't have enough time to call out before his thumb bore down on the button.

First there was a whir. Then there was a bang. The room ignited around them, flames shot up as high as the ceiling, and the four companions were flung against the walls.

* * *

><p>The Doctor's eyes shot open with a start. He let out a harsh cough, feet scrambling in a desperate attempt to drag him away from the deadly flames that were inching closer.<p>

Half the house was on fire, and the rest was soon to follow. The Doctor didn't know how long he'd been unconscious, but it couldn't have been too long. He was laying in the far corner of the kitchen, hair singed, and a rather uncomfortable burn sending searing pain through his shoulder. He quickly looked around, hoping he was the only one left inside and that everyone else was out and safe. But just a few meters away from him lay Artie, sprawled out, face burned, asleep inhaling the deadly fumes.

The Doctor screwed up his face in pain, pressed his hands to the wall behind him, and shoved himself into a rough sitting position. He grunted with the effort, but after several moments, managed to haul himself up onto his feet.

He hurried over to where Artie lay, looking uncomfortable and definitely injured. A quick check of his pulse told the Doctor he was alive, but all right was a whole different matter. A quick scan with the sonic would tell him anything, though. But as soon as he reached into his jacket pocket, he realised with a bang that it had been lost at some point during the explosion.

"Artie?" The Doctor coughed out, patting the boys face gently, and earning no reply. Without a second thought, he lifted him up into his arms, and made a hurried escape toward the doors.

Nearly every inch of the house was illuminated with flames. It took the Doctor great agile movements and careful steps to ensure he and Artie made it out safe, without getting burned any further. The door had been burst down in the impact, and now laid in a heaping flame at the base of the stairs. When they finally escaped the smoke-thickened house, the Doctor fell to his knees in the grass, laughing with relief. He laid Artie down, keeping a hand on his shoulder as he searched the rest of the yard. "Clara! Angie!"

"Doctor!" Angie came running up to the Doctor and Artie, her tears leaving pale streaks on her charred face. She caught sight of her brother, threw a hand over her mouth in despair, and dropped down beside him. "Artie?..."

"Angie, he's okay, but he needs medical help quick. Have you, or anyone phoned 999?" The distinct wail of a siren in the distance answered for her. "Okay good..." He froze, eyes growing wide, looking around the yard frantically. He rose to his feet, turning a full circle before walking up to Angie. He put both hands on her shoulders, gripping her tightly in terror, and lowering his head until they were eye level. "Where's Clara?"

"You mean...you didn't get her out?..."

"I thought she came out with you!" The Doctor spun around, making a quick break for the house.

"Doctor! Wait for the fire department! You can't go back in there!" Angie pleaded halfheartedly. She knew that if they didn't get Clara out soon, she probably wouldn't make it.

"I have to get her out." The Doctor said quietly, more to himself than Angie. Not sparing another moment, he got a good running start, lining himself up with the doorway, and burst through the flames.

"CLARA!?" He shouted frantically, coughing raggedly as he pressed his sleeve to his mouth. He trampled through the house, dodging flames and rubble, searching every inch for the most precious thing in the world to him. "Clara?!" She wasn't in the kitchen or the dining room. He knew she wouldn't be upstairs, so he passed them up, making way for the living room. He searched every nook, every cranny, behind every flame, and under every fallen board, until he finally found what he was looking for.

Clara was in the far corner of the room on her hands an knees, practically coughing up her lungs. Her left leg was red and raw, explaining why she hand't tried to escape. Her head hung low, her arms shaking, and her eyes began to close as she slowly started sinking to the floor.

"Clara!" The Doctor leaped over the broken down coffee table, dashing across the room and falling at her side. "Clara? Clara its okay." He wrapped an arm around her waist and lowered her head carefully to the floor.

"Doctor?" She smiled in relief, but that smile soon twisted into a pained expression as she continued to cough. She wheezed, desperately trying to gulp in the little bit of life saving oxygen that remained in the house.

"Its all right." He smoothed her hair back. "Help is on the way. You're going to be okay." He shrugged off his purple tweed jacket, draping it over her in a simple gesture of comfort. Wasting no more time, he put an arm under her shoulders and the other under her knees. She hissed in pain, eyes drifting to her burned leg.

"Ow." She croaked.

"It's okay." He lowered his head to kiss her charred cheek, then made a break for the front doorway.

What he was met with made him nearly scream in despair. The ceiling had fallen out in that area, blocking their escape with a huge pile of rubbish that was lit up like a Christmas tree. The Doctor spun around, hurrying to the back of the house in search for another exit. That one was blocked too.

"No!" He shouted. The windows, doorways, and any other means of escape was blocked off. They were stuck.

The Doctor's chest was growing heavy, and his breathing becoming labored. Through his hazy vision and slightly deafened hearing, he picked up on voices and the blurred sights of firemen through the fire-encased windows. They were coming in. They were coming to help. Everything was going to be okay.

But when the Doctor felt a rumble, and looked up to see a thick flame covering the ceiling above them, his spirits fell. The ceiling was about to collapse.

There was nothing else he could do. The firemen would be in to rescue them any moment now, but the Doctor knew it would be too late.

At some point in the last few moments, Clara had passed out. The thick tang of smoke finally proving too much for her body to handle. And in that moment, in that split second of time he had left, the Doctor knew what he had to do.

He lowered Clara into the corner of the room, eyeing the ceiling warily, just waiting for it to cave. He crouched over Clara, shielding her body with his own. He wrapped his arms around her tight, kissed her forehead, closed his eyes, and let out a scream as the ceiling collapsed on top of him.

**A/N: I'd love to see some reviews :)**


	2. Refusal

**A/N: Managed to get chapter 2 up pretty fast. Not all updates will be nearly this quick though.**

**This was a very emotional chapter to write...hope you enjoy :)**

_Chapter 2_

Clara was only vaguely aware of what was happening around her. She felt a cold, foul smelling plastic object covering her mouth and nose. She tried to twist away, tried breaking free from the odd uncomfortable object. But soon, she was finding it much easier to breathe. She inhaled as deeply as she could, feeling the sweet, fresh, untainted oxygen flowing through her lungs. Soon, she was slowly opening her eyes.

In her slight coherence, the first thing she caught sight of nearly took away the little bit of breath she had. A man was being dragged away. His shirt was torn and charred, his floppy hair singed and messy. He was unconscious, being hurried out of the burning building by two men in big coats.

"Doctor..." She croaked, her breath fogging up the inside of her mask.

"Hey, love, its all right. We're gonna get you to the best doctors in the city, yeah?" A large man...huge man...or maybe that was just the coat...was crouched over her, holding the mask into place. "We're gonna get you out of here." The next thing Clara knew she was being hauled into his arms. The Doctor's purple coat was still draped over her frail form. She gripped it weakly, not letting it fall as she was carried outside.

And the last thing she knew, she was finally seeing daylight again right before slipping back into oblivion.

* * *

><p>When Clara opened her eyes again, she was feeling much more comfortable. Her chest no longer burned, and her leg no longer ached. The oxygen mask remained over her face, and felt remarkably marvelous, so she made no attempt to move it.<p>

Slowly but surely, things were coming back to her. Her eyes widened as the past events came flooding back. She shot upright, looking around frantically. She was seated on a trolley, covered in a thin white sheet. Parked next to her was a flashing ambulance, with two far too recognizable people inside. "Angie! Artie!" She jerked the mask off her face, throwing it aside.

A paramedic rushed up to her, immediately putting a hand on her shoulder. "The children are fine, ma'am. Please lie back down."

"I will _not _lie back down." She retorted, imitating his thick Welsh tone. "Are they okay?"

"The boy, Artie is it? Got a bit of a concussion and some nasty burns. But he'll be perfectly fine."

"And Angie?"

"A few minor burns, but that's all. She was in shock, and exhausted, and soon passed out, but I assure you she's okay." As he spoke, the ambulance doors were being closed, and the children were rushed off to the hospital. "Now, ma'am, lay down. You've had a rough evening."

But Clara wasn't listening. Her gaze was fixed in horror on something in the distance. A thin, frail, recognizable body, was stretched out across a trolley a few meters away. "What happened to him..." She choked. "...please tell me he's all right."

"I'm not sure. Another medic has been assigned to him, but...I do know one thing."

"Well tell me then!" Clara raised her voice, somehow glaring at the man without looking at him, and growing frantic.

"He's suffering from a very serious concussion." He said a bit hesitantly. "When the firemen found you two, you were both unconscious, and a huge pile of burning rubble was on top of you."

Clara looked at her self briefly, her legs, her arms, then felt about her face. "I could've been worse off I suppose."

"When they dug it all off, that man was crouched on top of you...blocking any of the rubble from falling on you."

"He...what?" For the first time, she looked into the eyes of the medic.

"He must have known the ceiling was gonna collapse. He protected you. Honestly, miss...what was it?"

"Clara..." She said halfheartedly, eyes wandering back to the Doctor.

"Well, you're much smaller than he is, and he made it pretty bad off from the impact he took. If he hadn't been there, you would have been killed." He smiled a bit. "One hell of a husband you've got there."

Clara didn't even bother correcting him on who the Doctor was to her. She stared at her life saver...unable to take her eyes off of him for one moment. She felt wetness streaming down her cheek, and realised she had been crying. Without even a second thought, she threw the sheet off of her legs, and hopped off the trolley on wobbly legs.

"Oh, no you don't. You still need to rest." The medic gently seized her arm, but she shrugged it off. "Ma'am, the ambulance is about ready to take you to the hospital. You can ride with him if you wish, but I need you to come lay down."

"No!" Clara shouted, eyes never wavering from the man laying in the distance. She walked in that direction, hissing in pain as soon as her burned leg made contact with the ground. But she didn't let it stop her. She limped on, tears beginning to stream down her face. "Doctor!" She picked up the pace, nearly collapsing onto the trolley as she finally reached the man she desperately wanted to see.

The Doctor's hair was drenched in sweat, sticking to his forehead. His cheeks were blackened from the charring smoke, yet his skin was so cool to the touch. His bare chest revealed several gaping burns, as did his hands...and his arms...and pretty much everything.

Clara bit her lip, feeling a sob of despair, sorrow, and affection approaching. She put her hand softly on the Doctor's clammy cheek, stroking his face gently with her thumb. "Oh my god...Doctor."

She felt an arm being wrapped around her waist, and suddenly the Doctor was getting farther away. "No!" She elbowed the man pulling her away, breaking free from his loose grasp and dashing back to the Doctor. Tears streamed down her face as she once again took in his beaten, burned, bruised form. All of this...saving her life. That was _her _job. She was supposed to save him! She'd done it thousands upon thousands of times before, even if they were just copies of her self performing the action. But why hadn't she been able to protect him this time?

The next thing Clara knew, her shoulders were being held by the rough grip of two medics. "You need to lie down. He'll be all right." One of them said calmly.

"No!" She shouted again, reaching out to the Doctor and grasping his hand like a lifeline. "I'm not leaving 'im!" She choked out, not bothering to try and hold back the sobs this time. They began gently, yet firmly hauling her back. "Let me stay with him!" She cried, fighting back. But next thing she knew, she was doubled over in a coughing fit. Her chest began to ache again, and she could almost smell the lingering smoke in her lungs. She rubbed absently at her sternum, finally giving into the grips, and allowing herself to be seated on the edge of the white ambulance.

She allowed the medics to tend to her, but didn't pay attention nor care to what they were doing. Her eyes were simply fixed on the sorrowful face of the Doctor, watching as he was loaded into a fellow ambulance. Before they shut the doors, Clara spoke up.

"Let me go with him." She demanded. The medics looked at each other warily. "Let me go with him!" Her voice raised. After a moment, they nodded.

"Okay. Just take it easy, all right?" One extended a supporting hand, and Clara reluctantly took it, allowing him to help her hobble over to the Doctor's ambulance.

"Get off me." She hissed, climbing up into the vehicle after earning an invite from the paramedic inside. The men inside and the men who had been with her exchanged a few words with each other and a few glances at Clara, but she ignored them. Instead, she seated herself on a chair in the far corner of the small room, her eyes fixed on her Doctor once more.

Before she knew it, they were off. One man tended to the Doctor, attaching wires to his chest that were in turn attached to various monitors. Clara realised with a start that she would soon have some explaining to do...the Doctor having two hearts and all...but she'd deal with that when it came. All that mattered in that moment was that they saved her best friend.

A man crouched in front of her, eyes full of kindness. "Hello."

Clara ignored him. She didn't care about anything but the Doctor at the moment. A few moments, minutes, whatever passed. The man kept on talking to her, but by now, she didn't know what he was saying. A hazy fuzz was beginning to cloud her vision. She heard the voice grow a bit louder, but still made no effort to respond. A cool hand came to rest briefly on her forehead, while the other grasped her wrist loosely for several seconds. She winced as a bright like was shone into her eyes, and she shied away.

"She's in shock." She managed to pick up from the conversation he was having with his colleagues. An arm was wrapped around her shoulders, slowly coaxing her to stand. Clara complied, too exhausted and panicked to do much else. She allowed herself to be led to a second gurney, which was rolled up directly next to the Doctor.

He laid her down, covering the lower half of her body with a white sheet. Her head was lifted off the pillow briefly as an oxygen mask was placed over her mouth and nose. She made no attempt to resist.

She turned her head to the right. The Doctor's was only inches away. A tear fell slowly down Clara's face as she once again took in how hurt he truly was. And it was all her fault.

Clara suddenly felt her eyelids growing quite heavy. She heard the medic mumbling something to her about anesthetic and whatnot, but she paid no attention. Her eyes were now fixed on the Doctor's hand, which had started to move.

Slowly, his hand glided across the bed sheets, drifting until it came to rest on top of Clara's, palm up. She grabbed it, twining her fingers with his, and rubbing smooth circles on top with her thumb.

The last thing she heard before slipping into unconsciousness, was the Doctor's medic shouting something about an impossibly rapid pulse...

**A/N: Tell me your thoughts :) Thanks!**


	3. John Smith

**A/N: This chapter's a bit longer. I'm still just working on leading up to the main plot. Bear with me :)**

_Chapter 3_

The next time Clara's eyes opened, she found herself surrounded by white. Everything was white, including her. She was dressed in a white gown, laying on a white bed, covered by a white blanket. Even her skin was white. The cool, pale coloring of her hands frightened her.

She turned her head at the sound of a door opening. The face she saw allowed her to relax a little...just a little. "George?"

"Hey, girl." George Maitland walked into her room, a kind smile on his face. "How you feeling?"

"Um." She hesitated, reaching a hand up to feel the oxygen tube that was tickling her nose. "I'm not sure." She shook her head, grabbing the side railing of the bed to slowly pull herself into a sitting position. "Are the kids okay?" She asked hoarsely.

As if on cue, Angie and Artie entered behind their dad, smiling at the sight of of Clara's eyes being opened. "Clara!" Artie yelled running up to her with a huge grin on his face. Angie followed behind, a bit more slowly, but the relief in her eyes was obvious.

"Oh my god." She pulled them both in for a hug, surprised when Angie didn't even attempt to resist. "I'm so glad you two are okay."

"We thought you were gonna die." Angie nearly shouted, her sassy voice present, but her eyes betraying her worry.

"Hey, you're not getting rid of me that easily." She grabbed both of their hands. "How long was I out?" She asked, eyes drifting back to George's.

"Two days." He replied, a flicker of emotion showing on his face. He stared at the floor ever so briefly, then put his hands on his children's shoulders. "Come on, you two. Clara needs rest."

"I'm fine." She protested. "I'm just so glad to see all of you."

"The doctor said that you needed as much sleep as possible, and I'm not one to argue when it comes to your health." He eyed her.

Clara's eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. She gripped the bed sheets, curling them up in between her fingers as she stared at him blankly in horror. "The Doctor...is he okay?"

George tilted his head, and the kids exchanged a glance. "Um, he's right out in the hallway if you need me to get him for you."

"No...not...not him." She brought her gaze to the children. "Is he okay?"

Angie looked at the floor sadly, and Artie brought his suddenly tear filled eyes to Clara's. "He's really hurt."

That was all she needed. Ignoring a confused look from George, and protesting yells from the children, Clara swung her shaky legs off of the bed. She pulled off the cannula, ripped off the wires attached to her chest, and jerked the IV needle out of her hand. She bit her lip at the pain from the action, but ignored it all the same.

"Clara, what do you think you're doing?" George rushed up to her, trying to coax her back down. "You need to lie down."

"Oh, not you too!" She spit crossly, hauling herself to her feet. She grabbed the edge of the rail for support, then made her way to the wall, slowly guiding herself towards the door.

"Clara, stop this!"

"Let her go, dad." Angie said quietly. "Just let her go."

Clara sent her a silent message of thanks as she gripped the door frame until her knuckles went white. She looked down the hospital hallway, nearly tripping over her gown as she started stumbling away aimlessly. She shrugged off the hands on her shoulders as nurses attempted to guide her back to her room.

"Come on, love. You're not well." They kept saying, but for some reason made no attempt to completely stop her. Clara didn't know where she was going, where her Doctor might be, but she knew where to start looking.

_Sanders, Sandler, Shipino, Slusarczech...who had a name like Slusarczech?... Smith..._

There it was. As she read the names on each door she passed, she froze as she found what she was looking for. _John Smith._

Clara burst through the room, nearly sending the door flying off its hinges with the force she used to open it. She grasped the doorknob, hobbling in, leaning on the wall with half closed eyes. That was when she saw him.

The Doctor. Looking more human now than ever. He laid on the hospital bed, dressed in a gown that left his chest exposed. Little white patches were attached all over him, his chest, his temples, in turn attached to wires that led to the monitors. His heart rate, blood pressure, and brain waves were displayed on the screen. His face was no longer twisted in unconscious pain, his body was no longer completely hidden by burns, and his hair was back to that natural, floppy, adorable nature. Other than a thick bandage wrapped around his head, he simply looked like he were sleeping.

Clara approached his bedside slowly, taking in every inch of him as she seated herself on the bed. She reached out a shaking hand to run through his hair, heart sinking in sympathy at the sight of him. "Oh, Doctor..." She grasped his hand tightly in both of hers, slowly guiding it up until it rested on her own cheek. The coolness of his skin soothed her a small deal. She pressed his palm closer to her face, tears threatening to spill out of her eyes at any moment. "Please wake up..."

Until then, she wasn't aware of the man's presence behind her. He cleared his throat, announcing his arrival, and Clara twisted around to stare up at him with sad eyes. "What's wrong with him?"

"I'm sure you heard the story about what he did while you were still in the house?"

She nodded slowly.

"He's suffering from a major concussion." The nurse said sympathetically. "When the ceiling collapsed on top of him, he got a rather nasty blow to the head."

"But he'll be okay, though, right?" She lowered his hand back to his side, but didn't let go. When the doctor didn't reply, she raised her voice. "_Right?_"

"Ma'am, there's no easy way to say this, but I'm going to be dead honest with you. He's comatose, and probably will be for a while, although there's no for sure way to tell. He could wake up today, he could wake up in a few months. Could even be years. And, there's no true guarantee that he _will _wake up."

Clara choked back a dry sob, eyes wandering back to the Doctor's face. _He's just sleeping. _She kept having to remind herself. _Sleeping._

"And even if he does wake up...the long lasting effects could be...well..."

"Could be _what? _God, you're worse than that medic!"

"Serious bouts of amnesia are more than likely."

She drew in a shuddering breath, not really knowing what to do. Soon, a thought came to her mind. "Did you find anything...er...interesting about him?" She danced delicately around the subject.

"You mean him having two hearts? Yeah, we noticed." He laughed a bit. "Your little friends, Angie and Archie was it? Artie? They told us what we had already mainly confirmed. Honestly, after the things the world has seen over the years, there's not much more than surprises us.

Clara just nodded, already forgetting the conversation.

She didn't know what to think, let alone what to say. She stared blankly at the wall for a moment, before lowering her head to rest on the bed. It was taking everything in her not to fall apart. She felt a soft hand on her shoulder, and looked up to see the nurse looming over her anxiously. He crouched down until he was eye level with her. Clara lifted her tear stained face to his, waiting for what he was going to say.

"Listen. I know you're upset. I can arrange for you to stay in here with him for as long as you like. I'm sure he could use the company." He smiled. "But you're still not completely recovered. I need you to come back to your room so we can have a good look at you. Probably just one more night, then you'll be given the all clear, and you'll be able to spend as much time in here as you want. How's that sound?" He asked encouragingly.

"I don't wanna leave him." She protested, but saw sense in his words.

"I understand. We all do. But you need to think about your own well-being as well." When she didn't reply, he patted her on the back lightly. "All right?"

She nodded slowly, allowing him to grab her arms loosely and help her stand.

"I'll be back." She whispered, hoping with everything in her that the Doctor could hear her.

* * *

><p>Clara's legs dangled off the edge of her bed as she stared at the floor anxiously. Her hands were folded in her lap, trembling as she waited for someone to say something.<p>

George had taken the children home that morning, after she'd insisted that they quit worrying about her and get some rest. After a few parting words and some ramblings on looking into their insurance, he had agreed, promising to bring back some things for Clara to have with her during her stay at the hospital.

Now, she was waiting worriedly as her assigned doctor gave her a final once-over, hoping with everything in her that he'd let her go. She hadn't seen the Doctor since yesterday, nor heard if anything had changed. She had to get back to him. Plus, she didn't know how much longer she could put up with being cooped up in that little room.

"Well, Miss Oswald," Doctor Jameson looped his stethoscope back around his neck, and marked something down on a clipboard before smiling with excitement. "You're all good!"

"So I can go?" She asked, not even attempting to hide the desperation in her voice.

"You're gonna need to come back next week so we can have another look at you, your leg mainly, just to be sure, but everything's looking and sounding well." He gave her a look of sympathy. "And I know you're more than ready to see your friend. Yes, you can go."

"Thank you." And she meant it. The man had been more than kind to her over the past couple of days. Didn't make her feel uncomfortable, respected her space, but still, truly had helped her. Not just physically, but emotionally. He was a good listener, even sat with Clara for long periods of time occasionally, just listening to her ramble on about stuff he didn't even understand. He'd also given her a bit of hope about the Doctor's condition. He told her that when...and if...the Doctor came out of his comatose state, even if he was amniesatic, it wouldn't be permanent. There was no way of telling how long it would take for him to regain his memories, but once it started, they would come flowing back into his mind like a river.

"Anytime." He said kindly. Clara stood up, retrieving her dry-cleaned clothing from the foot of the bed. She no longer felt unstable, and managed to stroll out of the room with confidence. "Oh, and Clara."

She poked her head back in the room. "Yes?"

"Take care of yourself. Come to me if you need anything, all right?" His tone held no-joke seriousness. He meant every word.

For the first time in what seemed like ages, Clara smiled. "I will." And with that, she skidded off to the nearest restroom to get out of those dreadful hospital clothes.

Clara leaned on the bathroom counter, staring blankly at her reflection in the mirror. With the little bit of makeup she'd fished from her purse, she'd managed to at least make herself look presentable. She was back in her little brown dress, the same dress she'd been wearing on the day of the fire. Somehow, some way, it hadn't been damaged, and still was in crisp condition. She ran a hand absently through her ponytail, not really knowing what or why she was doing any of this.

_Not like he's waking up today. _The sensible part of her mind said.

_But he could. _The other part said, which was pretty much 99% of her mind. She'd always been optimistic. That didn't change now.

On her walk back to the Doctor's room, she ran into George in the hallway. "Clara!" He flagged her down, holding a travel-sized bag in his hand.

"Hey." She greeted him. "How are the children?"

"Doing well. Turns out we have coverage on the house after all. Everything is going to be replaced."

"That's great." She said, only half paying attention. She was itching with the need to get to her friend.

"Brought you this." He handed her the bag. "Just a couple changes of clothes and some snacks...the food here is dreadful...oh, and your phone. They found it in the grass outside. Lucky you." He laughed, handing her the mobile.

"Thank you so much, George." Clara smiled, giving him a brief hug of gratitude.

"Take care of yourself." And with that, he walked away.

Clara sighed, walking down the halls once again until she came upon the the door she'd been looking for.

_John Smith._

Even after seeing the Doctor looking so much better, the image of him remained in her head of how he'd looked just after the fire. She almost expected him to look like that again. Almost expected the doctors to tell her that something had happened through the night. Almost expected them to her that his condition was growing worse. But the optimism won out. And was correct.

He was sleeping peacefully. The bandage had been removed from his head, revealing a dark gash above his ear. Clara nearly winced in pain for him, remembering once again that this was because of her. But she shoved the thought away, telling herself to quit dwelling in the past. Although she knew she'd never be able to truly stop.

"Hi." She whispered, thankful she was alone. Whether it was a strong hope or just a hunch, something was telling her that the Doctor could still hear her. And if he could, Clara wasn't planning on remaining silent. She walked over to the bed and seated herself tentatively on the side. Her gaze wandered around the room for a moment, taking in everything surrounding her. Her eyes settled on the monitor, grimacing in annoyance at the constant beeping. His heart rate was currently 112 bpm. She supposed that was normal for a comatose two-hearted alien.

"I don't know if you can hear me," She began, looking deep into his closed, expressionless eyes. "But I just want you to know that I'm here...that I will always be here." She sniffed. "I'm not plannin' on leaving any time soon. You're stuck with me, and we're in this together, you hear me, Chin Boy?" She reached for his hand, curling her fingers tightly around his. "I'm not going anywhere."


	4. Empty

_Chapter 4_

Two weeks passed, and nothing had changed.

Clara sat at the Doctor's bedside nearly the whole time, talking to him, holding his hand, just trying to somehow make her presence known. She slept each night on the uncomfortable sofa in the corner of the room, only to wake up each morning and repeat her routine. She used the hospital showers, changing rooms, and cafeteria, never having any reason to leave the building. The doctors and nurses all offered her their support and sympathy, encouraging her to go home for a proper rest, but each time she refused. She was more than thankful of the fact that they never tried to force her.

But today, for the first time since she'd arrived at the hospital, she decided to leave. Not for long, mind you. Not for long at all. But she needed to...feel something. Needed to feel some familiarity. Something that would make her feel safe and secure again. Something to remind her that what was happening then wasn't permanent. She wanted to go home.

And so she did. After exchanging a few words with one of the nurses, ensuring that they would phone her if there was any change, she set off.

The cab dropped her off at the Maitland's.

"Thanks, mate." She paid the driver, who nodded in reply before speeding off.

Clara walked up to the house a bit hesitantly. It was still horribly damaged, the normal white paint on the outside streaked with black burns. The grass around the perimiter was singed, and old boards and various rubble was laying around everywhere. It was a mess. Still, though, it definitely looked better than she remembered it. The construction crew was doing a well job at fixing up the roof, and it was beginning to look more like a house again, instead of just a lump of wood.

"Clara!" George called, waving at her from the doorway. Clara smiled brightly, strolling up the driveway until she reached the house.

"Hello." She looked up the side of the house, mouth going agape. "The construction's going well I see."

"It most certainly is. " He nodded in approval, grinning at his employees handiwork. "So how are things goin'?" He asked, leading the way inside the rubbish-looking house.

The inside was still littered and torn into peices. The walls were burned, there were still gaping holes in the ceiling, but things still looked somewhat better than before.

"Okay." She replied, seating herself on the blackened sofa. "Where're the kids?"

"Back in their classes. Trauma leave is up." He gave a small laugh. "How's your friend?"

"Still in a coma." She said softly, voice full of regret. "George..." She lowered her head. "All of this is my fault. If I hadn't left the gas on..."

"Clara, don't you dare say that." He stood in front of her, looking down at her soft brown eyes with his piercing ones. "We can play the 'what if' game as much as we like, and it won't change anything. It was just an accident. It wasn't your fault."

"Just because it wasn't on purpose doesn't make it not my fault." She retorted.

George didn't respond, just gave her a small pat on the shoulder before departing to the kitchen. "Tea?"

"No thanks. I'd better get going." She stood up, rubbing loosely at her eyes in the fear that tears were forming again. "I'll check back in soon." She promised.

"Take care of yourself, Clara." As much as he'd have prefered her to stay, he didn't press. "Ring me if you need anything."

"I will." She made her way for the exit, but instead of taking the front door, she took the back. She grinned as she saw the recognizable blue box through the sliding glass windows. That was the place she'd truly been aiming for.

"Hello, old friend." Clara walked outside, gazing up at the familiar machine with envy. "I know you hate me, but just for five minutes, please don't mess with me, eh?" She fished the TARDIS key out of her pocket, sticking it in the lock and hoping with everything in her that the machine didn't lock her out.

And it didn't. Only gave a soft hum of seemingly sympathetic greeting.

Clara took a hesitant step inside. A pang shook her as the familiarity came flooding back. As she walked up towards the console, she could almost hear the Doctor's constant ramblings. Echoes of the memories danced through her mind, causing her heart to clench in sadness. She could almost hear him calling her name. Telling her with the voice of an excited puppy of the marvellous places they'd be visiting that Wednesday. The adventure, the danger, the excitement...she missed it so much.

Things may never be the same, she realised. The Doctor would wake up...he had to. But if he did, would he remember her? Would he remember _anything_? The TARDIS, Gallifrey, his past companions, the people he'd loved, the people he'd lost, all of the majestic wonders that time and space had given him...would he forget them all?

Clara walked slowly around the console, fingertips brushing softly against the cool metal. She ran a hand over the Doctor's favourite lever, gazing up at the monitor fondly. The TARDIS felt so empty. So...deserted. A ghost-like appearance of the Doctor seemed to dance before her eyes, though she knew it was just her wild imagination longing to run free. She did a little twirl, a sad smile on her face, dancing in circles around the console just as the Doctor did. She imagined his purple tweed coat flowing behind him, the clap of his hands and the random point of his fingers every time a new, random idea popped into that thick head of his, and that glimmer that came to his eyes every time he saw Clara's smile. She gripped the railing, peered around the central collum, just as she did every time the TARDIS leaped into action. She crouched low to the ground, as if bracing for impact as the TARDIS came to an imaginary halt. Clara skipped towards the doors, the smile still bright on her face, soon fading. She extended a hand to her side, wishing with everything in her that the Doctor were there to grasp it affectionately and excitedly, just as he always did. But of course, he wasn't. With a depressed sigh, a single tear, and a low sniff, she leaned her forehead against the rough wood.

"What am I doing?" She physically shook her head, reaching up a hand to grip the door handles, then stepped outside without another look back.

Clara's eyes were fixed on the gate on the other side of the yard, and she made her way for the exit. But as she glided across the green grass, she tripped over a small object with a clinking sound.

She shook the pain out of her foot, making a full circle in search for the item. Her gaze came to rest on what she found, and the corner of her lips twitched at the sight.

She leaned down, picking up the Doctor's undamaged, unsinged sonic screwdriver. With a soft smile, she twirled it around her fingers, giving it a little toss up into the air as the Doctor did. Clara clutched it tightly between both her hands, held it to her chest, and set course for the hospital.

As Clara entered the Doctor's room, she was met with the familiar beeping and whirring of the surrounding machinery. She'd already memorized it all, from the repetitive rythem his hearts emmited to the soft buzzing monitoring his brain waves.

112 beats per minute. The number never seemed to change. Clara found herself watching the monitor the majority of the time she spent with the Doctor, day after day, just waiting for the three digits to escalate. Anything that would be marked as a sign of him waking up. She just needed _something._

As lowered herself to her knees, tile flooring leaving uncomfortable red marks beneath her jeans, pulled the sonic screwdriver out from where it had been resting in her pocket.

"Found something today." Clara said, her tone of voice just as normal as it would have been, had the Doctor been awake. She grabbed the Doctor's hand lightly, curling his fingers outward and turning it palm up. She rested the device in his grasp, wondering if the cold metal tickled his skin as it did hers. She then closed his hand tightly around it, gripping the pale appendage in between her faintly pink ones. "Found it outside the TARDIS." Her voice lowered ever so slightly. "She's doin' good by the way. Paid her a short visit. She seems lonely, though. Probably ready for her Time Lord to get off his lazy arse and come give her some attention." She laughed lightly at her own words. The Doctor would have laughed at that. The fact that he didn't now made her heart break even more. "I...I miss you." Her voice was barely a whisper by now. "I miss you so much...you're here, but you're not. I miss having someone to yell at me when I made fun of your chin. I miss travelling in the TARDIS." Her voice cracked. "I miss being called the Impossible Girl...I miss the way you hold my hand, I miss the way you look at me when you're scared. I miss the teasing. The laughter. Doctor...I miss you." This was so out of line for Clara. So unlike her. She'd never be able to bring herself to say anything even remotely as heartfelt with anyone present. But she needed to rant. Needed to get that all out. She folded her arms over the bed, burrying her face in the blanket and allowed herself to cry for the first time in days. Sobs shook her like a boat floating on harsh waves, and her entire body trembled in sadness. She didn't know what to do anymore. She heard a clinking sound, guessing the sonic screwdriver had rolled off the bed, not even caring why.

And then she felt something. The slightest bit of pressure on her upper back, just to the left of her neck. She prepared an angry retort, ready to strongly reprimand whichever doctor or nurse was pitying her this time. But when she lifted her head, she was met with something entirely different.

She hadn't noticed that the speed of the beeping had escalated. The number displayed was no longer 112, but 125.

His eyes were still closed, the majority of his position hadn't changed, but there it was, the small amount of intimacy causing Clara to gasp, as she saw the Doctor's hand resting on her shoulder.


	5. Awake

**A/N: So much for slow updates! I'm really enjoy writing this.**

**This chapter's a bit shorter. Hope you enjoy :)**

_Chapter 5_

Clara let out a small gasp of surprise, eyes softening and a expression of utter relief upon her face. She risked a tentative look back at her left shoulder, dreading this was all just some dream. Dreading it was a hallucination, or that her mind was so desperate for the Doctor's touch that it was making up its own.

But it was real. The light touch was real. The escalating beeping was real. It was all _real. _Clara tentatively grasped his hand in both of hers, kissing his palm and pressing it to her cheek with the closing fluttering of her eyelids.

"Doctor?"

He didn't budge, but that didn't diminish Clara's hope. She'd pestered the doctors and nurses enough to know that the slightest bit of movement marked the start of him waking up. Such a large movement...he could wake up any moment.

Clara buried her face in the bed sheets, letting out a soft cry of relief, her heart swelling with happiness. Finally letting his hand drop, and taking in his sleeping features once more, she darted out of the room and into the hallway with a speed she didn't know she possessed.

"He's wakin' up!" She shouted to no one in particular. "He's waking up!" Her voice was filled with laughter, tears prickling her eyes as she leaned against the side of the door frame. Hands clasped behind her back, closed eyes focusing blindly on the ceiling above her, she cried. For the first time in forever she cried tears full of joy. Her heart no longer clenched with pity, but instead fluttered wildly. _Humany wumany. _The Doctor would say right now. With a final bright smile, she wiped her tear-stained cheeks with her palms.

A nurse and a doctor were rushing into the room, hurrying to the Doctor's bedside, checking monitors, various readings, and other things Clara didn't care to pay attention to. Her eyes were solely fixed on the Doctor's, who were finally, _finally _opening.

Doctor Jameson walked past her, the assisting nurse close at his heels. He put a hand on her shoulder, his eyes smiling just as much as his lips. "I'll leave you two to it, then." He hesitated, then increased the pressure on her shoulder ever so slightly. "Just...remember what I told you. His mind is a fragile thing right now. You don't know what he's gonna remember." Giving her a final pat, he left the room, nodding to the nurse in an invitation to follow him.

Clara folded her arms over her chest, approaching the sterile bed cautiously. She sat down ever so slowly on the side, her fixed gaze with the Doctor never wavering. He didn't register her presence just yet, as he was still waking up. But Clara couldn't resist a small laugh as finally got to see those brown, bright, beautiful eyes.

"Doctor?" She reached forward, her hand gliding across the bedsheets until it found the Doctor's.

And with that, as he heard the word, as he felt the contact, his eyelids fluttered open all the way. He drew in a sharp intake of breath, looking back, forth, and all around without even moving his head. His hand clenched around Clara's, but as his eyes met hers, his tight grip loosened, falling back to rest in his lap. "What happened?"

Her eyes softened, and it took everything in her not to throw her arms around his neck right then and there. "What do you remember? Do you know where you are?"

"I'm sorry..." He tilted his head a bit, squinting his eyes, taking in every inch of the girl sitting in front of him. "I don't even know who you are."

And that tiniest sentence, those seven words, the hollow look in his eyes, all traces of recognition gone...it broke Clara more than anything else possibly could.

* * *

><p>"Doctor...please tell me you know who I am."<p>

He knitted his non-existent eyebrows in confusion, staring blankly at the woman sitting on his bed. "Um...I'm no doctor."

"Do you know who I am?" Her eyes were full of sadness, her body language mirroring her crestfallen expression.

"I'm sorry...no." He shook his head, sitting up ever so slightly. "Wait...so what happened? Am I in a hospital?"

"Yeah." The woman sniffed, shifting back a bit from where she was seated on the bed. "You um...got hurt in a house fire."

"_House fire_?" He emphasized, eyes widening a bit. "Was anyone else hurt?"

She seemed to smile at that. "Not as badly as you. You've been in a coma for two weeks."

"Damn." He stared at the floor.

"Lot to take in, I suppose." To his considerable surprise, the girl leaned forward a bit to place her palm on his cheek, rubbing his forehead softly with her thumb. He flinched at first, taken aback, but found himself slightly relaxing into her touch. "I'm gonna go get the doctor. I'll be back soon."

"All right..." He said confusedly, watching her from behind as she walked out of the hospital room, head hanging low.

He let out a long, exhausted sigh. Two weeks? What the hell happened...and why couldn't he seem to remember any of it? That girl had said a house fire, but what from that event resulted in him being comatose for so long? He strained his mind as much as he could, trying to reach the memories hidden in the back of his brain. He felt something there. Something he couldn't quite reach. He felt like he should remember, but he couldn't. Now that he thought about it...what _could _he remember? Not only did he not remember recent events, but as he thought back, as he pushed his mind further and further into past time...he couldn't remember anything.

_Who am I?_

"Well, hello there, Mr. Smith!" _That answers that I suppose. _"How you feeling?" A young man clothed in scrubs, with floppy brown hair, and a short mustache and beard walked up to his bedside, pressing a button on a small, off-white device, emitting an annoying screeching noise. The bed slowly lifted him into an upright, more comfortable position.

"Um," He hesitated. "Not sure, really." He was oddly disappointed to find the young woman still absent.

"Well, I'm sure you were filled in somewhat on what happened to you. Details can be given later on, but for now, let's see how you're doing."

"Hold on." His eyes searched the young doctor's for a moment, almost as if he were looking for something. "I have a question."

"Of course." He replied. "Anything."

He hesitated, eyes lowering to the floor. "I don't...what happened?" There was an odd desperation in his expression. "I don't know who I am."

The doctor sighed. "You, sir, are John Smith. You are 29 years old, and you live in London, England."

"Yes, that's all very well, but..." His eyes were more pleading than his words. "Who _am _I?"

"That's up to your own mind to reveal to you. All in good time." He smiled. "All right, then. Let's see how you're doing. If I like what I see, you may be going home by tonight."

"Wait, just one more question."

"Yes?"

"Who the hell is the beautiful girl in the short brown dress?"

**A/N: Review review review!**


	6. Bow-Ties and Boxes

**A/N: If you've read The Fault In Our Stars or seen at least season 1 of Once Upon A Time, you'll start to see where I'm getting some of my inspiration :3**

**Enjoy!**

_Chapter 6_

Clara leaned against the sterile white wall of the hospital hallway, head hanging low, and her weary gaze fixed on the tile floor. She folded her arms over her chest and allowed a bit of stray hair from her ponytail to fall down in her face. With a sigh, she let her droopy eyelids flutter closed.

_He really doesn't remember me. _She thought silently. Of course, she'd seen it coming. After such a huge event, he was hurt so badly...Time Lord or not, he had his human traits. No one could go through as much as he did and come out without battle scars...whether those scars were physical or emotional.

But it still hurt Clara as much as any physical scar would. The Doctor...her Doctor...the man she'd traveled with, the man who'd sat outside all night guarding her, the man who'd jumped into his own time stream to save her, the man who made her feel like she was soaring every time he just grasped her hand or touched her cheek. They had a special relationship. More than friends, but yet nothing more at the same time. Their bond was one of infinity. It would never end.

But to Clara, it seemed that that infinity was ending. What were they going to do if he couldn't even remember her? Couldn't remember the TARDIS, couldn't remember _anything _about his life. At all. He may as well be human now, she decided. Would his memories revert to those of a human as well? No. That wouldn't make sense. He was still a Time Lord. Even if he didn't have memories of his home, or even who he was, _what _he was didn't change.

"Miss Oswald?" Doctor Jameson poked his head around the corner of the door frame, eyes searching the hallways beyond until they rested on Clara. "He's asking for you."

Hope flared up in her chest, and the excitement glimmered in her eyes. But the hollow look in her friends gaze soon diminished those feelings.

"He still doesn't remember anything." He warned. "But he asked for 'the beautiful girl in the short brown dress'. I get the feeling that's you." He smiled.

A light blush tinted Clara's cheeks, and she gave a small nod of understanding. Jameson exited the room, walking swiftly down the hall with his white coat trailing fluently behind him.

Clara brushed some stray hair behind her ear, and took a minute to regain her composure. She wiped absently under her eyes, even though she hadn't been crying. It had just become a habit of hers lately...with everything that had taken place. She shook herself a bit, then took a confident step into the room.

The Doctor was sitting up, looking just as lively as he used to, all traces of weakness and his previously comatose self gone. He had his long legs swung off the bed, and his hands reaching up to comb through his long hair as he stared blankly into a mirror on the wall opposite of him. Clara cleared her throat quietly, announcing her presence. In return, the Doctor turned to look at her, a confused smile upon his face. "Well, hello there."

Clara smiled a bit, taking a few steps closer before settling for just leaning on the wall. "Hi."

"So." He let out a sigh, hands falling to rest in his lap. "John Smith, eh?"

"Hm?"

"John Smith. That's really my name?" He looked at himself in the mirror, a hollow look in his weary brown eyes. "John Smith, age 29, from London, England."

"Well..." How was she supposed to go about this? _No, your name's the Doctor, and you're a 1500 year old time-traveling alien from outer space. _"Not really."

"Not really what?"

"That's not exactly your name...or your age...or where you're from." _Shut up, Clara. _

"Um," He gave her a quizzical look.

"Nevermind." She laughed a bit, eyes lowering to the floor. "We'll get to all that eventually."

"So." He slapped his knees, shifting his position a bit so that he was facing Clara better. "Who exactly are _you_?"

"I'm..." She didn't know how to respond to that either. "I'm a friend."

"What's your name?"

"Clara." She blinked sadly. As if she could be hurt even more. "Clara Oswald."

"And...are you my..." He searched his mind for the right word. "Girlfriend?"

"Oh no. No no no." Clara couldn't hold back a giggle. "No."

"Wife?" He quirked an eyebrow in a way that was still so...the Doctor.

"No." She smiled. "Just a really good friend. We travel together."

"Travel, huh?" He nodded slowly. "Just us?"

"Yeah." Clara scratched the side of her face awkwardly. "You...you don't really have anyone else. Just been you and me for a while now."

This didn't seem to faze him. "What about you? Do you have anyone else?"

"Well," She hesitated. "Mum died years back, and I've got my dad. But I live with some old family friends." _When I'm not with you, that is._

"Sounds like a good life." His smile faltered a bit. "It's hard, you know. Not knowing who you are."

"I can imagine." She said quietly and sympathetically. The time she spent in the Doctor's time stream had been one of the best, yet worst times of her life. She didn't know who she was. Who she was supposed to be. So as she watched the Doctor, head hanging low, confusion and anxiety on his face, she could understand to at least some degree what he was going through.

"The doctor said I may be able to go home tonight. I apparently made an amazing, unheard of recovery. After a few tests, they won't have any reason to keep me here anymore." For some reason, he didn't seem excited by his own words. "Where is home, exactly?"

"With me." Was all that came out. Clara bit her tongue, instantly regretting the words. Did that sound as sappy as it felt? But still, the Doctor didn't seem fazed...or at least bothered. Instead, he just smiled.

"Well then, Clara Oswald." He stood up out of bed, intending to walk over to her, then remembered with a flash that he hadn't stood up in weeks. His legs immediately wobbled, and he gripped the side railing of the bed for support. Without even thinking, Clara rushed up to him, hands on his shoulders in an attempt to keep him upright. His tall, lanky form slumped down, nearly all his weight falling onto her. Clara let out a little grunt of effort, hoisting him upright. "Sorry." The Doctor laughed, letting himself fall back onto the bed with a little huff. Clara seated herself beside him, looking into his eyes fondly. As soon as she saw that their shoulders were brushing up against each other, she scooted away a bit, worried what any kind of intimacy may result in. At this action, the Doctor's face seemed to fall, but he didn't say anything.

"What were you saying?" She asked with a hint of grin.

"Ah yes. Well, it seems that..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "If you're right, and you truly are all I have right now, seems that I'm going to be relying on you for a while." His voice faltered. "Looks like I'm gonna need you...you know, to help me remember." He brought his gaze to hers, an expression Clara had never seen before. It was pleading, kind, and worried all at the same time.

"Clara Oswald, can you help me?"

Pushing any thoughts of diverting the chances of intimacy out of her mind, Clara leaned over to plant a small kiss on his cheek. The Doctor didn't even flinch, just closed his eyes, seeming content.

"I most certainly can."

* * *

><p>"And you're sure he's fine to go?" Clara questioned worriedly.<p>

"Clara, I assure you he's perfectly fine." Jameson countered.

"But how? You said that once he woke up it'd take weeks for him to recover."

"He seems to have made a miraculous recovery. As much as I'd love to find out how, we aren't permitted to hold patients here if they no longer have any need for medical treatment. Which he doesn't."

"But..."

"Clara." Doctor Jameson took a small step closer. "I know you're scared."

"I'm not scared." She retorted, crossing her arms.

"And I know you're struggling with what to do." He continued, ignoring her completely. "But that doesn't mean you can't try. You're all he has."

Clara's gaze lowered to the floor, and her head drooped in a sort of submission.

"He needs you. Now more than ever." He patted her on the shoulder and smiled sympathetically. "It'll be all right."

"What am I supposed to do, though? How do I get him to remember?"

"You take him home, and you look after him. Show him the little, memorable things from his life in the past. Show him around town. Do anything that you think may trigger his memories."

She didn't reply.

"You can do it. I know you can. And you can always let me know if you have any questions." When Clara still didn't reply, he crouched down a bit until his gaze was level with hers. "Okay?"

She gave him a lopsided smile. "Okay. Thank you."

"Any time." And with that, he walked away, leaving Clara to deal with the amnesiatic Time Lord on her own.

"Well," Clara sighed, standing before the Doctor's hospital room door. She shook herself slightly, put a hand on the door knob, and swung it open. "Geronimo."

* * *

><p>"This is seriously what I wear?"<p>

The Doctor took himself in from every angle, staring at his reflection in the mirror with confusion as he looked his clothing up and down. He was dressed in his traditional purple tweed, completed with his slacks and boots. All that was missing was the bow-tie, which Clara was now grasping in her hands.

"Every day." She let out a soft giggle. "Don't forget this." She handed the little untied bow-tie to him.

"Okay, I will say, that is very cool." He plucked it from her grasp with an excited grin, wrapping it around his neck. "Um..."

"What?"

"How the hell do you tie this thing?"

Clara walked up to him, draping her hands around his neck to wrap the bow-tie correctly. She slipped it under his collar, beginning to tie it, when she noticed the Doctor staring at her. Not just looking at her, not just observing her work, but staring at _her._ She felt her cheeks burning slightly as she blushed under his gaze. Trying to ignore him, she finished her mission, then took a small step back to admire her work. She gave him a light pat on the chest. "There you are."

He looked at himself in the mirror again, straightening the little purple accessory. "Cool."

"Well?" She picked up her little cross-strap purse, took a couple ambling steps towards the doorway, and turned back to look at the Doctor. "You ready?

He sighed, letting his hands fall to his sides before they found the gaping holes of his pockets. "Think so."

"Come on, then." Clara nodded in the direction of the hallway, then stepped out with no more than that simple invitation.

The Doctor straightened his bow-tie once more, then took an ambling boot-clad step after her. He blew out a puff of air that filled up his cheeks, ran a hand through his hair, and mentally shook himself out.

"Geronimo..."

* * *

><p>"No."<p>

"What?"

"You expect me to go in _there..._"

"Yes. I do."

"But it's a tiny...blue...tiny box." The Doctor seemed to blush a bit as he straightened his bow tie. "That's quite inappropriate, Clara!"

"You'll understand once we're in there!" Clara tugged at his sleeve.

"Oh, I'm sure I will." He retorted. He paused for a minute, suddenly no longer resisting against Clara's constant pulling, who had also come to a halt, staring at him quizzically. His eyes were fixed blankly on nothing, and a thought seemed to cross his mind.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing." He shook his head. "Deja Vu I suppose."

Clara took that as a good sign. She reached in his direction again, fingers brushing against his sleeve until they came to grasp his hand. She urged him toward the doors. "Trust me."

And with that, she swung the TARDIS doors inward, revealing the beautiful metallic scenery inside.

The Doctor's eyes stretched wide. He took a hesitant step in further, leaning against the wall as he took everything in. Suddenly, he darted outside, made a couple laps around the box, then darted back in, flashing a grin at Clara.

"It's bigger on the inside."

**A/N: Hurt my back at a taekwondo tournament, so you know what that means! Bed and laptop all day tomorrow! Leave me some reviews, and if I'm nice, I'll post chapter 7 by tomorrow night ;)**


	7. Rubbish Names

**A/N: Wish granted. Here's the next chapter :)**

_Chapter 7_

"The _Doctor_?"

"Yes. _The Doctor._"

"What sort of rubbish name is that?"

"The one you chose."

The Doctor slouched forward a bit, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "People don't choose their own names. At least, not on a regular basis. And they choose normal names like Steve, or John, or Pipenpadelopsacopolis!"

"Okay, first of all, Pipenpadelopsacopolis is in no way at _all _a normal name." Clara did a literal face-palm, rolling her annoyed brown eyes as she continued the seemingly neverending conversation. "Second of all, yes. I know it sounds odd, but your name isn't John Smith. That's just a cover name you use. Quite often, actually. But it's not _your _name. You are the Doctor."

"The Doctor." He licked his lips, sticking his tongue out briefly. "The Doctor. The Doctor." He tried the name on for size, listening to it pronounced differently and spoken in different accents. "Doctor, Doctor, Doctor, Doctor, Doctor." His eyes lit up after several more minutes of inconsistent rambling. "I suppose it is a bit catchy." He stuck his hands in his pockets, plopping himself down heavily in the jump seat and crossing his legs. "Doctor!"

"Ringin' any bells?" Clara asked hopefully, but was still feeling quite pessimistic. She placed one hand on the side of the console, the other clutching a cup of tea, while she leaned over with her head tilted slightly. Her long brown hair fell to the side, and crossed over the corner of her eye. She blew a lock out of her face, jerking her head to the side until it landed back behind her ear.

"Nope, sorry." The Doctor knocked on the side of his head with his fist, as if to physically stir up the old memories. "Damn human brains." He shook his head, resulting in his hair sticking up at several awkward angles. With an annoyed mutter, he smoothed it back down.

Clara let out a spluttering cough, nearly spraying her tea all over her console. "Wait. What did you just say?"

"Hm?" His face suddenly lit up with realisation, and he covered his mouth with his palm. "Sorry! Not one for swearing?" His muffled, worried tone questioned.

"No, no its not that." She set down her cup, crossing her arms and taking an ambling step toward the Doctor. "Did you same _human _brain?"

"Um," The corner of his mouth twitched up in a sort of confused smile. "Yeah." He pointed to the side of his head. "Its a brain, and I'm a human. Therefore, it's a human brain. You know," He scratched the back of his head, partially muttering to himself. "You're not as clever as you seem."

"Human brain..." She said distractedly, then suddenly a scowl crossed her face. "Oi!" She punched him in the arm. "I am too as clever as I seem."

"Yes ma'am." He winced, rubbing his arm in an act of complaint.

_But you're not human. _Her thoughts back on track again, she stared at the Doctor quizzically. He really thought he was human? Sure, he'd had his memory all fizzled and confused, but that wouldn't cause him to forget his own _species. _Would it?

"So. Anyways, I have just one more question." His raising voice broke into her thoughts.

"And what's that?" She sipped at her tea, trying to push away the nagging thought.

"What's my age?"

Clara let out a small laugh. "Honestly, I'm not entirely sure. But you're much older than you look."

"So I'm not 29?" His face fell.

"Nope!" She gave him a small smile, then walked to his side to pat him on the shoulder. "It's late. You've had a long day. Feeling tired?"

"Not at all, surprisingly!" He stood up, looking like an energetic puppy who's finally getting to play outside. "Feel like I'm running a mile a minute!" He did a little awkward dance in place. "Not tired at all."

Well, at least that part was normal. The Doctor was rarely tired or in need of sleep. "Well why don't you go get some sleep anyways." She offered. "Then you'll be well rested for another long day of questions tomorrow." She sighed in mock-exhaustion.

"I suppose you're right." He walked away, in no general direction at all. He walked a complete circle around the console, ran up the stairs, back down again, and repeated. "Er, where's the bedroom?"

Did the Doctor even have a bedroom? "Well, that's a good question. Best one of the day, I might say." After a moment of thought, she came to her conclusion. "You can just sleep in my room tonight. Mind you, good luck finding it. The TARDIS likes to play tricks sometimes."

"Well, what about you?" A small glimmer of hope flashed in the Doctor's eyes as he asked the question. "Where will you sleep?"

"Oh, I'm plannin' on being up for a while, yet. I'll just find one of the spare bedrooms."

"Oh." His face took on an expression of subtle crestfallen sadness. "All right."

"Go down the east corridor, and it _should _be the third door on the left." Clara stared up at the ceiling. "Be nice to him! He's had a rough day." The TARDIS let out a soft groaning noise in response.

The Doctor nodded, taking off in that direction, momentarily disappearing inside the corridor. He poked his head back in only a split second later. "Oh, and Clara."

"Yes, Doctor?" She stared in his direction, sipping her tea awkwardly even though she knew her cup was empty.

"Thank you." And with no more than a flashing grin, he disappeared once more.

* * *

><p>"Third door on the left, third door on the left..." The Doctor muttered to himself, scanning the hallways until his eyes came to rest on the appropriate door. "Aha!" He swung it open, strolling inside without hesitation.<p>

The room was most obviously Clara's, but was in no way girly. Very suiting for a man, still. The dark blue bedspread was plain, yet nice, with nothing more than white sheets beneath. He wasn't surprised to find all windows absent. The rest of the room was quite ordinary, the one thing truly brightening it up was a shelf mounted near the bed. It held a few books, who's titles the Doctor didn't take time to read, and a single, crumpled, brown leaf. "Odd." He muttered, but just mentally shrugged before heading over to the bed.

He kicked off his shoes, shrugged off his jacket, and sat down on the edge without bothering to change the rest of his clothes. He smoothed his hand over the duvet, fingertips poking and prodding in various areas. He peeled back the top, revealing the two neatly stacked, comfortable looking pillows.

The Doctor laid down, burying himself in the comfortable covers, surrounded by the soothing scent and feeling of Clara Oswald. He didn't know why, but he felt something...interesting towards her. She was sweet, beautiful, and friendly no doubt, but his mind seemed to dig deeper than just surfacing traits when he thought about her. The way she talked, that sassy, yet kind tone. The way her hair fell around her shoulders in that oh so attractive way. The way she looked at him, at any time at all. Did he detect similar thoughts wandering around in _her _mind?

He was happy to have her. She was helpful and...relatively...patient. She'd helped him so much earlier that day, and he knew she'd continue to help him further. If he was to remember who he was, and everything else about his past, he would need her support.

And if his past was filled with memories of Clara Oswald, he was more eager than ever to remember them.

* * *

><p>"Okay, you old cow. I know I'm not your favourite person in the world, but I could really use a bit of assistance right about now."<p>

Clara stared up towards the top of the central column, eyes narrowing as she spoke awkwardly with the TARDIS.

"You talked to me once. That day that we had to rescue the Doctor. Remember that? You weren't the kindest thing to be around, mind you, but you were certainly helpful!" She scolded. "What did you call it? Something Something Voice Interface? I could really use that right about now."

No more than a millisecond later, the TARDIS emitted a soft buzzing sound, resulting in a hologram figure appearing to Clara's left side. She spun in that direction in slight surprise, taking the figure in. It looked exactly like her.

"Yep." She shuddered inwardly. "Never gonna get used to that. Okay. I need your help. What's up with the Doctor? Why does he think he's human?"

"When a Time Lord is ill or injured, he goes into a post-traumatic stage of regeneration, rendering him comatose for an unknown amount of time. During this period, the regenerative properties of a Time Lord will allow him to heal himself without the need of changing his face, if the ailment is not majorly severe." The robotic-toned Clara hologram spoke.

"That doesn't answer my question." Clara put her hands on her hips. "Why does he think he's human?"

"Occasionally, the healing process will go wrong if he is somewhere besides his native planet. The special atmosphere surrounding Gallifrey enables a successful process, due to the regenerative properties woven within. They ensure not only a successful healing process, but a perfectly resolved memory, physical traits, and any other physical flaws that were damaged. If a Time Lord is somewhere besides Gallifrey, the atmosphere surrounding the planet he currently dwells on will cause disorientation and confusion during the process."

"So what you're saying is -"

"-Because the Doctor entered the healing state while on earth, he was met with the unfortunate event that only 1 in 3 Gallifreyans experience. The atmosphere clouded his mind, erasing memories and natural thoughts originating on his own planet, and resulted in having his mind consumed by the thoughts of incompetent humans."

"Oi!"

"Over time, his natural subconscious will return."

"Over how much time?"

"Unknown." And with that, the interface disappeared from sight.

Clara stared at the spot where it had been, mouth agape in frustration as she swung around. She made a couple annoyed, pacing laps around the console, then sat herself down in the jump seat with a huff.

"This is gonna be trickier than I thought."

**A/N: Okay. Wasn't Listen just amazing?**

**Please review!**

**I like reviews.**

**Reviews are cool.**


	8. The Rest of London

**A/N: The next couple of chapters will just be filling in gaps and tying up loose ends. Gonna need time to show the true feeling development of the both of them ;)**

**Not one of my fav chapters, this one. But it'll do for tonight :)**

_Chapter 8_

Two days passed, and the companions were still confined to the TARDIS. Despite the bigger-on-the-inside nature, and the countless rooms to discover, the pair were growing quite bored.

"Please?!"

"No!"

"Pleeeease?"

"No, Doctor!"

"But why not?"

"Because I don't know how!"

The Doctor crossed his arms, frowning as he questioned her again. "Your own ship, and you don't know how to fly it?"

"It's not my ship!" Clara countered, flailing her hands about for emphasis. "It's yours!"

"Well _I _don't know how to fly it!"

"Well neither do I!"

"What are we supposed to do? You tell me this thing is a space ship, _and _a time machine, and we're just stuck in your friend's back yard? How long do we have to stay here?"

"Doctor, until you can remember how to fly the TARDIS, we're not going anywhere." She folded her arms over her chest, tapping her foot with frustration, then gave a satisfied nod as the Doctor finally seemed to accept her decision.

"Fine." He grumbled, sulking away. "I'm gonna go look around a bit more. _No _having fun without me! You understand?"

"Yes, sir." Clara gave a mock salute, shooting him a look as he crossed the console room, disappearing into the west corridor.

"God, that man." She scowled, turning towards the central column. She braced her hands on the side of the console, staring up towards the ceiling. "All right, you...still don't know what to call you. I need your help again."

Nothing.

"Oi! You hear me? I need your help!"

Still nothing.

"Listen. Unless you want an amnesiatic Doctor and my furious self mucking about your hallways for god know how long, I suggest you bring back that creepy hologram of myself and GIVE ME SOME DAMN HELP!"

Finally, the familiar figure shimmered before her.

"Thank you." She huffed. "Okay. How do I fly this thing? Perception filter or not, sooner or later George is gonna notice the bright blue Police Box on his lawn."

"Information unavailable."

"_Excuse _me?" Clara shouted.

"Information granted only to the sole pilot of this vessel."

"But the sole pilot can't even remember his own name!"

"Information unavailable."

"Fat lot of good you are." Clara frowned.

"However, alternative flight methods available."

"Well then for god's sake, tell me!"

Silence.

"Hello?"

Silence, from the hologram, but a seemingly annoyed humming came from the surrounding box.

"Fine. I'm sorry." She grunted. "Please tell me."

"If another life form is coated with background radiation, a result of time travel through the vortex, a telepathic link between said life form and the TARDIS psychic circuits is possible."

"And what makes you think I'd want a telepathic link with _you_?"

"Although chances of success are not 100 percent, it is the only way to fly the TARDIS without the knowledge of the basic controls."

Clara thought about it for a minute. She'd time traveled, she'd been through the vortex, so of course she'd have some background radiation...or whatever it was called. But was this the best plan?

"How does it work?" She finally questioned.

"You will find a small electrical panel on the opposite side of the console. Place your hands deep within, concentrate on the desired destination, and..."

"And what?"

"Hold tight." Once again, leaving off on a whim, the hologram vanished.

"All right, then." Clara ambled over to the console, albiet a bit hesitantly. She searched amidst the controls, poking in prodding in various areas, as if the thing she was searching for might be hidden. Finally, her eyes came to rest upon something she'd never noticed before...she wasn't sure why. Seemed quite difficult to miss. It was a sort of panel, metal squared bars going in stripes across the top. In between contained some sort of...gooey...stuff. Electricity crackled throughout. If Clara didn't know better, she'd say it quite resembled a brain.

"You expect me to touch _that..._" She asked the ceiling. The TARDIS hummed in reply.

Before she could act any further, Clara heard the sound of rapid footsteps coming from the west corridor. Or the east. It was hard to tell. The Doctor dashed into the console room, rushing to Clara's side in excitement.

"Did you know there was a pool?" He questioned, voice a big high-pitched. "And I just saw the biggest library in human history. I'm sure of it!"

Clara turned to him, dismissing the weird telepathic stuff from her mind. "Yep. I know. See anything else interesting?"

"Oh, lots!" He nearly shouted. "Those corridors stretch on forever, and there are some marvelous things amidst! I saw a room with nothing but trampolines, a room that was just one giant bed, _and _was introduced to the world's largest blueberry." He tilted his head a bit. "This place is a bit odd, I will say."

"You're tellin' me!" Clara smiled. "Glad to see you're enjoying yourself."

"Mind you, I'm quite ready to get out of here. Could we go explore the rest of London?"

"Nothing exciting about London, I'll tell you that." She joked. "But I suppose it couldn't hurt. I'm feeling a bit confined myself." She began stalking off towards her bedroom. "Just gimme a tick to get changed. I'll meet you back in here. Don't wander off!" She waggled a finger in his direction, then vanished into the corridor.

The Doctor watched her go, grinning at the sight of her when she wasn't looking. He let out an involuntary sigh, trying to shake the lingering thoughts out of his head. But there was no point. He couldn't get Clara Oswald out of his head. The way she walked, the way she talked, the way she looked, the way she smelled...god. Was that her perfume, or did she just naturally smell like sunflowers and rain? He felt as if he'd known her for a long time...and he had. He just couldn't wrap his brain around any of their past times together. But he just felt so at home with her. So content.

Moments later she appeared, looking as stunning as ever. She wore a beautiful, yet casual red dress over a pair of jet black leggings, and a zipped jean jacket. Her high-topped shoes completed the picture, plus the natural flowing of her pulled back brunette hair, and the bangs drooping down in front of her face. She walked down the ramp with a smile on her face, heading straight for the direction of the doors. "Ready?"

The Doctor nodded in response. "You look lovely." He commented without even thinking, approaching her side with confidence.

Clara smiled, a light pink blush heating her cheeks. "Come on, Chinny." She pulled the doors open, peering outside. "It's clear. Just follow me."

The Doctor frowned, peering at his reflection in the window and rubbing his chin. He followed Clara outside, stepping into the outdoor world and absently straightening his bow tie excitedly. Clara was already halfway across the back yard, hurrying in the direction of the gate. "Hurry up!" She scolded, not even looking back.

He rushed after her, reaching her side within a few swift strides. "So where to?"

Clara laughed a bit inwardly at the turn of events. _She _was showing the _Doctor _around for a change. "Well, what do you want to see?" They exited the yard, making their way across the front lawn and to the street, Clara already searching for a cab.

"I don't remember anything about this place, so I dunno. Maybe just wandering about town a bit might jog my memory?" He suggested.

Clara just shrugged. "Sounds good to me." She waved desperately as countless taxis swarmed by, each of them ignoring her. She let out a frustrated groan, trying again as another passed her up.

The Doctor laughed a bit, then stuck two fingers in his mouth. With a piercing screech, his whistle caught the attention of all surrounding cars and, more specifically, a cab that finally came to a halt.

"Not bad." Clara mused, sliding into the backseat of the vehicle without hesitation, the Doctor close behind. "Hyde Park." She told the driver, and he sped off with no more than an understanding nod.

"Hyde Park?" The Doctor questioned.

"Beautiful place. Used to go there with my mum when I was small. You'll love it." She promised.

"Cool." He put his hands behind his head, and crossed his feet on the car seat in front of him, only to lower them back down when he earned a warning glare from Clara.

After about a fifteen minute drive, they arrived at the park. Clara paid the driver, crawled out, then held the door open for the Doctor who slid out after her.

"Ready to see the world, Doctor?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." He smiled down at her, a slightly sad, yet excited look in his eyes. "Let's go."

**A/N: Again, not my best chapter. But a review would still be lovely :)**


	9. Hedgewick's World

**A/N: Sorry for the late update, and sorry its so short. Been a bit stressed out lately, and had a hard time finding time to write.**

_Chapter 9_

"Do you realise how _boring _this is?" The Doctor complained, sulking back and forth in front of Clara with agitation. "It's just...people. And _horses. _And...grass."

"Yes. Its a public park! Deal with it!" Clara rubbed her forehead with aggravation, crossing her legs and leaning her back against the park bench.

"But I want to see something cool." He pouted, taking a seat next to her only to stand up after ten seconds of boredom. "This is just so..."

"So what? Boring?"

"So human." He sat back down, resting his chin on his up-turned palm.

"Human?" Clara gave him a bit more attention, turning until she was partially facing him. "What d'you mean?"

"We've got a space craft!" He raised his hands in the air a bit for emphasis. "And we're just walking about London?"

"It was your idea." She protested, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at him with annoyance. "Besides, I already told you, I CAN'T FLY THE TARDIS!"

"There's no way to do it? At all?"

"No-" She hesitated. "Well."

"See, there is a way!" The Doctor shouted, clapping his hands with a _ha!_

"Dunno if it'll work, though." She admitted.

"Worth a try, eh?" He jumped up, grabbing her hand excitedly and hauled her into a standing position. Clara let out a little squeal of surprise, losing her balance and collapsing forward onto him.

"Oi!" She regained her footing and took a step back, brushing herself off as if trying to brush away her humiliation. She took a second to fix her hair, ignoring the amused chuckles from the Doctor.

"Come on!" He anxiously grabbed her hand again, speeding off in the direction he knew the TARDIS was. But just as fast as he started, he stopped, dropping his hand back to his side. "Sorry." He straightened his bow-tie awkwardly, staring at the ground as he tapped his foot.

Clara couldn't hold back a laugh. "Don't be."

"Do we do the hand holding thing a lot? I mean, it feels like we do, I _think _we do but we may not."

She laughed again at the sight of him beginning to blush. Before he could embarrass himself any further, she reached up to grab his large hand in her tiny one. "We do."

The Doctor smiled brighter than ever before. His fingers instinctively curled around hers, as he looked down into her piercing brown gaze. He nudged her shoulder with his, then sped off once again away the horror that was Hyde Park.

* * *

><p>"You sure you want to try this? I didn't realise-"<p>

"Doctor, its okay. Quite frankly, I'm gettin' a bit of cabin fever myself. I'm ready to see the stars again." Clara smiled, her sad eyes revealing her longing. She took a brief moment to stare up at the ceiling. "Turn the safe guards off?" The ship hummed in reply.

"Whatever you say." The Doctor put a hand on her shoulder, keeping it there until he guided himself behind her. "Let's do this nice and slow." He prompted, then wrapped his arms around her slim body and placed his hands on top of hers.

Gently, with a feather-light touch, he guided Clara's hands into the TARDIS telepathic circuit. She flinched as her skin made contact with the cool sliminess, but the Doctor held her there firmly.

Clara winced. "Ew."

The Doctor removed his hands, side-stepping to where he was in place at her side once again. "Now what?"

"Shut up." Her eyes were already closed, her head never wavering, as if her blind gaze were fixed on something in front of her. She shut her eyes a little tighter in concentration, pressing her lips into a firm, straight line. With a bit of a sick groan and a hoarse whir, the TARDIS dematerialized at last.

"Whoa." Clara opened her eyes, nearly tipping backwards at the unexpected movement. The Doctor was behind her in an instant, reaching out to place his hands on her back to keep her up right. "Thanks." She muttered, drifting back into deep concentration again. The Doctor said a couple of things, something between a question and a complaint. But Clara barely heard him, focusing on the task at hand.

Within moments, the ship came to a land with a thud.

Clara took a second to regain her footing, looking around in expectation. The Doctor rushed up to the monitor, nearly jumping up and down with the excitement of a 6 year old. "This certainly looks fun!" He shouted.

Clara jerked back from where her hands were embedded into the telepathic circuit of the TARDIS. It took a few pulls and a grunt of effort, but she finally wiggled her hands out, sticking out her tongue briefly in disgust.

"Where are we?" The Doctor questioned, eyes still fixed on the monitor. "Seems familiar."

"If I did this right, I'd hope it'd be familiar." She wiped her hands on her jeans, joining him and smiling triumphantly at what she saw. Without a word, she rushed over to the front doors and swung them open with a victorious laugh. "I did it!"

"Where are we?" He repeated, bounding to her side excitedly.

Clara took a step out of the TARDIS, turning a full circle before facing the Doctor again. She threw her arms in the air, smiling brightly.

"Hedgewick's World!"

* * *

><p>The Doctor looked around in awe, stepping forward from the ship until he was resting at Clara's side.<p>

"Better than Hyde Park?" She questioned with a laugh, taking a moment to congratulating herself on arriving before the Cybermen's invasion.

"Much better than Hyde Park!" He walked about in no general direction, the majority of his time spent looking up as he marveled at the huge coasters and various rides. "Ooh, we're so riding the Spacey Zoomer."

Clara put a hand over her mouth to hold back another chuckle. Never had she seen the Doctor acting more so like a child. "Well, you can if you like. I'll stick to the ground."

"Oh, come on!" He prompted, running until he was standing in front of her again. "You scared?"

"Yes!" She admitted...with no reluctance...at all.

"You a chicken?"

"Yes!"

"Clara's a chicken!" The Doctor walked in a circle, making clucking noises with his mouth and mimicking a chicken's wings with the flap of his arms.

"I am Clara Oswald, and I am proud to be a chicken!" She did the same, joining the Doctor in step as they did chicken impressions to their heart's content.

"Ahem." The sound of a gruffy old man's voice froze them in their tracks.

"Sorry." Clara's cheeks burned red, a bit embarrassed by what the man had just witnessed. "Hello!"

"Welcome to Hedgewick's World of Wonders!" The old man greeted them enthusiastically. "Universe's largest amusement park, and home of the Spacey Zoomer!"

"Which we are definitely riding!" The Doctor butted in, waggling a finger in Clara's face, who just batted it away with an annoyed scowl.

"Ah, but the Spacey Zoomer can only be ridden if the attendants have at least a single golden ticket. Which can be purchased at that booth there for only 200 units!" He said with a salesman voice.

"Ah, but, we _do _have a golden ticket. Don't we, Doctor?" She held her awkward smile, nudging the Doctor with her shoulder.

"Eh?" He looked at her with confusion.

"The psychic paper." She hissed, smile never wavering and gaze never lifting.

"Eh?" He tilted his head.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud." Clara grabbed the flap of the Doctor's jacket, reaching her other hand inside to feel about his pockets. Ignoring an annoyed 'Oi!' and a weak shove, she fished the paper from amongst his other various objects and waved it in front of the old man's face.

"There! You see? Golden ticket!"

The man laughed, looking between the two of them with amusement. "Couple of desperate souls, I see! Carry on. Enjoy your ride!" And with that, he walked away, chasing down another customer and prompting them to purchase a golden ticket.

"I knew it." The Doctor crossed his arms, staring down at Clara with a light smirk.

"Knew what?" She stuck the paper back in his pocket.

"That you wanted to ride! Ha!" He grabbed her hand, speeding off in the direction of the massive, terrifying roller coaster.

"I did that for you!" She protested, gripping his hand like a lifeline as she struggled to keep up.

"Too bad!" He chuckled, dragging her along.

_Oh, what the hell. _Clara thought. _It's a Monday. What have I got to lose?_

**"It's a Monday. Gotta do it one more time."**

**-Olan Rogers**

**(if you got that reference let me know because you're me new best friend)**

**As always, please review!**


	10. Never Again

**A/N: Another short chapter...sorry. I wanted to make sure I posted tonight, because I'll be at a friend's tomorrow and probably won't be able to update. We'll be spending our time watching Sherlock, Once Upon a Time, Divergent, Nacho Libre, Olan Rogers...the list goes on.**

_Chapter 10_

"Oh my god. I can't believe I'm actually doing this." Clara muttered, staring straight above her until her neck hurt, trying to see the top of the deathly terrifying ride.

"No turning back now!" The Doctor laugh, clapping a hand on her shoulder. "Come on. It'll be great."

The line in front of them was dwindling to single digits now. Clara grew more and more nervous with each moment that passed.

Time seemed to zoom past by the time it was their turn to board.

"Nope! Nope! I'm turning back. Not happening, sorry." Clara threw her hands in the air, beginning to make her way back down the stairs until she was seized by the arm.

"Oh, no you don't!" The Doctor wrapped his arms around her, trapping her arms against her chest as he lifted her off the ground playfully.

"No! Doctor!" She shouted, trying to sound angry but couldn't resist breaking into a fit of giggles. She kicked against him feebly, but to no avail. He had her.

A man stepped forward, professional tone about him all from his clothing to his voice. "Sir, are you prepared to board?"

"No!" Clara answered for him.

"You bet we are." The Doctor winked, climbing into the two-seated cart near the middle of the full ride. He lowered Clara beside him, smiling innocently as her now messy hair fell over her eyes, not doing enough to shield the rage that was lurking beneath. He buckled her in, then did the same to himself.

"I'm going to _kill _you!" She hissed, gripping the restraints that were draped over her shoulders like a lifeline. Her eyes closed, and her breath came out slow.

"You do realise we're not moving yet...right?" The Doctor smirked.

"Shut up." She whispered, cracking her eyes open to stare ahead.

"Scared?" He teased.

"Yes! I already admitted to the whole 'chicken' thing!"

"You _also, _mind you, agreed to join me on this fantastic coaster, using the words, and I quote, 'It's a Monday'." He nudged her arm with his elbow, having to reach past the restraints just to reach her. "Come on. It'll be fine."

Just then, the ride started with a jerk. Clara let out a little squeal of terror, eyes closing again and her hands gripping her safety restraints until her knuckles went white.

"Woohoo!" The Doctor cheered, then frowned as he noticed Clara's lack of excitement. "Open your eyes!"

She shook her head.

"Come on." He rolled his eyes.

Clara opened her eyes slightly, looking at him with a raged glare. She squeezed tighter as their seat was tipped back, a result of the transportation escalating. No matter how far she stretched her vision, Clara still couldn't see the top.

"You all right?" The Doctor asked finally, seeming genuinely concerned.

"Mhmm." She bit her lip, trying to relax.

He smiled, resting a hand on her knee in a gesture of mere comfort. "It'll be worth it. I promise!"

"Whatever you say..." She could see the top now. And it was approaching quickly. They would tip over any moment.

"Ready?!" The Doctor shouted over the now noisy metallic screeching.

Clara shook her head violently, blindly fishing for his hand until she found it in his lap. Pulling it over to rest between them, she twined her fingers with his, earning a tight, comforting squeeze in return.

"Say 'WHEEEEE!'"

"AHHHH!"

And then the coaster toppled over the edge. They went plummeting down the track at a remarkable speed, immediately giving way to loop after loop. Clara screamed in a mixture of terror and anxiety, heart thudding wildly against her ribs. Beside her, the Doctor screamed as well, but with nothing more than a whooping 'Woohoo!" each time they took an unexpected drop.

Loop after loop, drop after drop, Clara was growing queasy. Her hand still was connected tightly with the Doctors, resulting in it being squeezed harder every few seconds.

Up and down. Back and around. She didn't know how much more she could take.

She was just about to warn the Doctor for her possible eruption when the ride came to a halt. It was an odd place to stop, though. Not only were they in the middle of the ride, any signs of departure much too far away, but they were _upside-down. _

"Ohhh no. No, no, no, no, no." Clara breathed heavily, hair drooping down into a sort of chocolate waterfall. She tilted her head to look at the ground...it was too far away to see. All that was beneath her was the fluff of odd-coloured clouds. She silently cursed gravity, wrapping one hand around her restraints while the other was still holding the Doctor's. "Please tell me this is supposed to happen."

"How am I supposed to know?" He defended himself, but was looking slightly worried. "But my guess would be no..."

"This is why I don't do roller coasters!" She shouted, anger and fear rising in her voice. Anxious chatters and shouts echoed around her, a result of the other passengers' panic. She didn't blame them.

"Hey, it'll be all right. We're just stuck at the top of the loop. They'll get their machines working, then give us a nudge, and we'll go rolling nice an neat into the station." He pointed to where the unloading area sat not too far away. "See?"

Clara's face grew redder by the second, feeling an uncomfortable pressure in her head from the heavy blood flow pouring into it. "This isn't the most comfortable position.

"I know." The Doctor muttered, a similar look on his face. "But just stay calm."

"Getting dizzy." She complained worriedly.

"They'll get us down soon. Hang in there." He squeezed her hand with a smile.

Clara's only reply was a pained groaned.

Then at last, the ride started again with a jolt, sending them lurching forward until they landed in the station moments later.

"See?" The Doctor encouraged. "All over! That wasn't so bad was it?"

Clara's face was paling dramatically, and she was hastily unbuckling herself. Her pallor was now taking on a bit of a greenish colour, and the Doctor realised what was about to happen.

He launched himself out of his seat, quickly rushing to her side to help her up and guide her to the side railing of the platform, where she leaned over and retched miserably.

The Doctor winced in disgust, holding her hair behind her head, and unable to resist a little laugh as he noticed many other passengers with the same fate.

Funny little weak humans.

Not sure why that thought popped into his head, and not taking the time to care, he helped Clara regain her balance as her stomach finished expelling its contents.

Clara wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, glaring at the Doctor with all out rage. "I'm never. Riding. A roller coaster. Again."

"Yeah, I think that may be for the best." He laughed, draping an arm around her shoulders as he guided her away.

**A/N: Yeah, yeah, it's short. And pretty pointless. I've been looking forward to this chapter, though. It was hilarious to write :P**

**Don't forget to rev-...you know the drill ;)**


	11. Human

**A/N: My friend and I ended up watching Veggie Tales instead of Sherlock. #noregrets**

**I made her watch the new DW episode...she hated it. Of course.  
><strong>

**I'M NOT GIVING UP. She'll be a Whovian Fangirl by Christmas ;3**

**.**

_Chapter 11_

"But-"

"NO!"

"Please?"

"Noooo."

"But I don't wanna go up there alone!"

"Why?" Clara crossed her arms with a smirk. "You the scared one now?"

"No!" The Doctor straightened his bow-tie defensively. "It just gets lonely waiting in that long line alone."

"Doctor, I'm not going back on the Spacey Zoomer." Her voice hardened. He wasn't gonna win this round.

"But it's a Monday!" He shouted with a wild craze in his eyes. "Gotta do it _one more time_!"

"My vomit all over those poor people begs to differ." She muttered with light embarrassment.

"Fine." He pouted, then took a minute to spin a couple circles. "What _do _you want to do?"

"Look around! Tons to do! Why can't you choose something?"

"Because that's the thing. _So _much to do, I can't decide."

Clara let out a soft giggled, hands dropping back to her sides. "Fine. I dunno about you, but I'm getting hungry. World's largest amusement park, whatever. But are there any concession stands?"

It was the Doctor's turn to chuckled amusedly. "I'm sure. We can just wander about for a bit til we find something, what d'you say?" He extended his hand towards her palm-up, waggling his fingers invitingly.

She took it with a dainty grasp, pulling herself close to him and earning a bright smile. "Very well."

They strolled on, her shoulder brushing up against his upper arm. They exchanged small talk, joked, resulting in Clara's inevitable, adorable laughter. She laid her head on his shoulder each time she broke into a fit of giggles, gripping his hand even tighter without even thinking about it. The Doctor grinned down at her, swinging their joined hands back and forth with every stride. Fingers brushing against skin, exchanged smiles, and consistent laughter kept the two content and happy.

After spending just minutes on a foreign, alien...and the Doctor had to admit...disgusting meal, they settled for heading back to the TARDIS. Worn and tired, they were ready for the peaceful serenity inside the blue box.

The Doctor pulled out his key, previously given to him by Clara, and unlocked the door. He swung it open, standing off to the side to hold it open and giving a small bow. "After you, Miss Oswald."

"Why thank you, Doctor." Clara strolled through with her head held high, a posh tone filling her words.

He followed in after her, laughter still ringing in the air, and closed the doors swiftly behind them. Clara spun around to face him, an almost embarrassed smile spreading across her face. She took a step towards him, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Thank you, Doctor."

"Thank me? Thank _you. _You're the one that brought us there. That was cool!" He exclaimed, returning to the slight demeanor of a child. He lowered his head so that he was looking straight in her eyes, bringing his hand up to rest on her cheek. He tucked a bit of hair behind her ear, fingers brushing along the side of her head. His gaze drifted down to her lips, and he caught her's doing a similar dance. Caught up in the moment, without even thinking, he lowered his lips to hers.

But to his dismay, Clara pulled back almost immediately, hands dropping back to her sides. She blushed pale pink, gaze fixed on the floor as she took a step back. "I'm sorry."

"No...I-I'm sorry." He scratched the back of his head, looking away with embarrassment. "I don't know what came over me."

"It's all right...but that...that can't happen again."

The Doctor opened his mouth to reply, prepared to give words of agreement, but the words that spilled out of his mouth were different and unplanned. "Why not?"

She finally looked up, her big sad eyes revealing so little. "It just can't." She crossed her arms self-consciously, then turned her back and began walking away.

"Wait..." He called after her halfheartedly, not sure whether or not he hoped she would stay.

But she did. Clara stopped in her tracks, but didn't turn around. "Why?"

"That's what I'm trying to ask you." His voice was almost a whisper, head hanging low, unsure of himself. But Clara still turned around, walking back to join him by the console.

"It just _can't._" She repeated.

"But I fancy you..." He was blushing bright red now, keeping his gaze diverted from hers. _I think love you._

Clara looked away as well. "You think I don't fancy you too?"

"Then why can't it happen?" He pleaded, a frowning sort of sad pout on his face.

She put her hands on her hips. "Because..." Her hands dropped as quickly as they had risen, fiddling with each other nervously.

"Because, _what_?" He demanded, walking up to her until they were just inches apart. His sad, angry gaze bore down, on her, head drooping so that his eyes could meet hers.

"Because you're not human!" She shouted suddenly with frustration, wild eyes flying to his. She covered her mouth with her hand instantly, wishing she could take back the words. But it was too late.

"Excuse me?" The Doctor laughed, "What do you mean I'm not human?"

A sad look clouded Clara's face. "I mean you're not human."

For some reason, he wasn't as surprised as he should have been, nor had he given the expected reaction. Instead, he just stared blankly ahead, eyes meeting Clara's yet not truly connecting, as his brain tried to process the information he'd just been presented with.

"Prove it." Was all he managed to say, not sure if he meant it or not.

Clara sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Please." He didn't know why he was so keen to accept, but felt this nagging feeling in the back of his head...telling him there was something he needed to know. "I still don't know who I am. There's been something missing, I couldn't tell what it was, and I still don't know, but I knew I was different." The words spilled out like a waterfall. "Who am I?"

Clara blinked up at him, taking a hesitant step until they were standing toe-to-toe. She raised her hand, bringing it brush against his cool cheek affectionately. She then lowered it down slightly, reaching her hand inside his jacket to press her palm against his chest. She felt his heartbeat speed up at her touch, trying her best to ignore it as she let her eyes flutter closed with small smile.

"You feel this?" Clara opened them again, then grabbed the Doctor's right hand with her free one. She uncurled his fingers, placing his hand on top of hers, then sliding out from under so that his own was resting on his chest. She covered his hand again with her palm, bringing her eyes to his.

The Doctor solely nodded, but the confusion was apparent on his face.

She pressed down a little harder, brushing her thumb over the back of his hand. "This is you."

"I don't understand." He blinked a few times, as if trying to make sense of what was happening.

"Two hearts?" Clara prompted, lifting his other hand to place it on the opposite side of his chest. "Feel that? That what a double heartbeat feels like." She willed him to understand.

"But..._all _humans have two hearts." He laughed lightly, speaking slowly as if to a child.

Then Clara understood.

And she knew what to do.

"Doctor, what am I?" She questioned.

"What are you?" He smiled. "You're Clara Oswald."

"Not _who _am I, _what _am I?"

"Er...a human?"

"Yes." She nodded slowly. "I am human." Clara grasped one of his hands, which were still positioned on either side of his chest, and held it tight in both of hers. He immediately responded by curling his fingers around her tiny ones, acting upon an immediate response. But she just uncurled them again, opening his hand and pulling it close to her. Resting it on the left side of her own chest, she brought her sad eyes to the Doctor once again. Realisation dawned upon him, albeit just slightly.

"But..." His gaze flickered from hers, to his hand, and back again.

"Feel _that_?" She smiled. "Just one heart. Human." Her other hand rested on his other, pressing it harder above his heart as he tried to make sense of everything.

"How come you've just got one?" He asked confusedly, almost seeming to go into shock.

"The question is...how come you've got two?" She tilted her head.

"Because...but...so I'm not..." The Doctor's eyes widened, both hands dropping as he took several steps backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet. "No!"

"Doctor..." Clara reached out for him, trying to approach, but he just retreated farther.

"I'm _human_!" He insisted, tears beginning to prickle his eyes. "I'm normal. I am human!" One hand clutched the side of his head, which was frantically whipping back and forth.

"_You _are the Doctor." Clara began, nearly breaking into a full run as she rushed to his side. She grasped his shoulders, trying desperately to hold him steady.

"WHAT AM I?" He demanded frantically, tears beginning to stream freely down his face.

"A Time Lord." She replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "You are a Time Lord. The very last. And you should be proud."

"A _Time Lord_?" He huffed. "What kind of rubbish is that?"

"The truth." She muttered quietly, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Doctor, this is the truth."

"You don't just drop that on someone! You don't just tell someone they're an alien like its nothing!" He prompted anxiously.

"You told me that you didn't feel right. That you felt like something was missing, that you didn't know who you were...Doctor." She grabbed his hand tight. "This is you."

He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, the panic in his eyes beginning to somewhat fade. He was suddenly speechless, not even knowing what to think, but the pieces were beginning to come together...a little.

Clara slowly lowered herself to the ground, holding the Doctor's hand and bringing him down with her. They sat on the cold, metal grating of the floor, side by side. The Doctor rubbed at his temple with one of his hands, still showing no different emotion than before.

"All right?" Clara rubbed his shoulder a bit in comfort, scooting a bit closer to her weeping friend.

"Yeah." He sniffed, physically shaking himself out. "Sorry."

"No need to be." Clara smiled and dropped her hand to his knee, slumping sideways and resting her head on his shoulder.

The Doctor wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, closing his eyes with a sigh. Laying his head on hers, hand gripping hers tight, he wished nothing would ever change again.

**A/N: I wish I had the time to really concentrate on this chapter and make it good. I've been looking forward to writing this one, but it didn't come out like I hoped. Oh well *shrugs* **

**High five for all you Olan Rogers fans**

**.**

**You know the drill ;)**


	12. Invasion

**A/N: So, pretty soon I'm gonna start this new fic. It's gonna be a collection of oneshots, (whouffle of course ;) ) with just various cute moments between them. If you've read my fics, you know how much I love h/c so there will be a lot of that, plus fluff. Gotta have fluff.**

**So anyways, I'll be accepting prompts for new chapters, but I need an idea for what the first chapter should be. So start sending in some ideas! :D Thanks!**

_Chapter 12  
><em>

The wind howled in her ears. The thrumming of her heart echoed all around her. The sound of her pounding, rapid footsteps would probably never end. It couldn't. Because if it did, they'd catch her.

Clara raced through the cold, harsh terrain, dodging booths and stands and various abandoned rides. Through the paths that wove throughout Hedgewick's World of Wonders, she ran. Not daring to stop.

The rhythmic metallic pounding seemed to get closer and closer, yet she knew the noise was coming from plenty far away. If she could just make it to the barracks...there she'd be safe. Safe from the reining army of Cybermen...even if only for a little while. Finally, she dared to slow, risking an anxious glance back behind her. Her pursuers were far enough away for her to take a short rest...a very short rest. Clara slowed to a stop, hunching over and bracing her hands on her knees, desperately drying to catch her breath. She couldn't remember how long she'd been running for, but by now she was running on pure adrenaline. Once that wore off, she'd be running on feeble fumes.

Before she knew it, they were onto her again. She didn't have any time left. She had to keep going.

As Clara ran for the barracks, she prayed with everything in her that the Doctor would be waiting for her. They'd been separated long ago...after deciding to take one more trip to the amusement park after three emotional, difficult days on the TARDIS, they had realised that Clara had been wrong the whole time.

When they'd first arrived, they _had _arrived before the Cyberman invasion. But just barely. When they returned, the planet was already overrun by the ruthless metal men. Instead of the thrilled laughter the companions had been met with before, all they heard was the terrified, dying, final screams of too many unfortunate souls.

She and the Doctor had met up with the main army platoon, who had guided them to safety and offered their services. The Doctor had insisted on he and Clara leaving, but she had refused, determined to do what it took to save the planet for a second time. But that was potentially one of the worst mistakes she could have made.

The two had run back to the TARDIS, arming themselves with necessary equipment, then planned to hurry back to the barracks. But they were separated along the way. When an army of dozens and dozens of Cybermen had begun pursuing them, they'd had no choice but to split up, arranging to meet back with the platoon.

If he wasn't there, Clara didn't know what she would do. Still not having regained his memories, he wouldn't have the intelligence and instinct that his normal self would have. He wouldn't survive out there on his own for long.

With a despairing breath of relief, she finally collapsed forward through the doors, where the platoon was already waiting for her, armed and ready. A few greeted her, while others kept their anxious distance. Clara stood up and brushed herself off, scanning the room wildly.

"Where's the Doctor?" She shouted, walking around and taking in every inch of the surroundings. "Where is he?!"

"He's not with you?" A young black man, clothed in military wear, previously introduced as Damon approached Clara worriedly.

"We were separated." She panted, leaning against the wall with glazed eyes. "We arranged to meet back here...I..." She was speechless, trying to keep her tears of worry hidden.

"Hey, it's all right." Damon put an arm around her shoulders, leading her across the the room and coaxing her to sit. Clara complied without question.

She braced her elbows on her knees, burying her face in her hands as she tried to get a hold of herself. The hand on her shoulder disappeared, and she heard the fading footsteps of Damon as he approached one of his fellow platoon members.

"Look after her." She heard him whisper. "I'm gonna go and find the Doctor."

"Wait." Clara stood up, trying to walk over to him but was held back by another young woman. "Let me come with you."

"You need to rest. You're in shock. I'll find him, don't you worry." He flashed her an encouraging smile, then vanished through the doors.

"Just sit down for a few." The woman, Kira, encouraged, leading Clara to her seat.

"Shock again, eh?" Clara laughed a bit, eyes fixed on the floor as her breath started coming out in pants. "Suppose I'm just too weak to handle anything now a days."

"That's not true. You've been through a lot today." Kira crouched beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

"I've been through a hell of a lot more than this before. Believe me." Her breathing managed to slow down somewhat.

"I can tell. You handled yourself brilliantly today." Kira patted her shoulder once more before standing up and walking away.

Clara's gaze flickered from the door, to Kira, and back again. She had to find the Doctor. She couldn't leave it up to a man she barely knew. The sensible part of her mind kept telling her that Damon probably had a better chance regardless, but Clara wouldn't let that stop her.

She stood up, not bothering to see who was watching, and made a break for the door. But as soon as her hand connected with the door handle, another hand connected with her arm, and she was hauled backwards.

"You can't go out there!" Kira insisted. "Not alone. Not now. Let Damon search for your friend. He has the best chance of finding him."

"I can't leave the Doctor out there alone!" Clara shouted. "He's been through too much lately! He doesn't even know who he is, much less how to handle an entire Cyberman army. He _needs _me. You have to let me go!" She pulled her arm free, making a break for the doors again.

But Kira just grasped her shoulders again, dragging her backwards. "It's suicide! You won't survive five minutes out there alone! I'm not letting you go."

"You can't stop me." Clara argued defiantly, pulling away, but didn't break her grasp. "You can't keep me here."

A sad look crossed the woman's gaze. "I'll do what I have to do." She reached into her back pocket with her free hand, pulling out an instant sedative. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, no you don't!" Clara jerked back. "No!"

"I'm sorry." She repeated, then jammed the hypo into the side of Clara's neck.

"No." She winced, but her struggles were already growing weaker. "I have to...find him." Her eyelids drooped, and her knees buckled, sending her plummeting to the floor.

Kira was there to catch her, lowering her head to the ground gently as Clara lost full consciousness. She grabbed her underarms and pulled her across the floor, safely tucked away in the corner farthest from the door. "It's for your own good." She promised, squeezing Clara's arm briefly in comfort before slipping away.

**A/N: Well this took an angsty turn. Don't forget to send me some prompts! **

**And of course, review! :D**


	13. Captured

_Chapter 13_

Clara's eyes opened slowly, and with much difficulty. Each lid seemed to weigh a ton, resulting in more of a squint than her eyes fully opening. She winced against the bright light, causing her head to throb and her eyes to burn. Only then was it that she began to fully take in her surroundings.

She was back in the barracks, slumped against the wall in the far corner of the room. Around her, military-clad men and women rushed back and forth, here and there, frantically preparing for battle. Clara eyed the door across the room, and calculated her chances of making it out without them seeing. She didn't see Damon anywhere, which meant he was still out searching for the Doctor. Which meant the Doctor hadn't been found yet...which could mean a number of things.

Clara subtly sat partially up, thankful that everyone was too busy and anxious to pay any attention to her. She didn't even see Kira, so that gave her a small advantage.

She placed her hands on the ground, stood on one knee, then bolted for the door. She swayed on her feet, not helping but feel a bit dizzy, but managed to make it to the exit with relative ease.

"Stop her!" She heard a man shout, but was already out the door. She slammed it shut, darted around the back of the building, and ducked under an old table. Footsteps and frantic voices scurried by, but none stopped to think to peek into her little hiding place. She'd done it. She was out.

Now she just had to find the Doctor. Clara slid out and slowly rose to her feet, scanning the terrain anxiously before making a break for it. She ran across the field, stopping every now and again to duck under an object or hide behind a thick pole. If she was seen, she wouldn't know. She heard the sound of no pursuers.

Except for the metallic crashing that revealed her mechanical pursuers...that was bad.

Clara spun around to see an army...dozens upon dozens of Cyberman soldiers, all marching in sync directly for her. A sense of Deja Vu approaching, she started running again, not knowing where, and not really caring. First she had to get to safety, then she'd find the Doctor. She'd be no use to him dead.

Determined and ready to find a good hiding place, Clara continued her escape. They were plenty far behind, and were fairly slow. She'd make it to safety without problem.

But that optimistic thinking might have cost her her life. Distracted and frightened, Clara didn't see the fast approaching little gap in the ground. There was a twist, a _crack,_ and Clara was left crying in pain on the ground.

She bit her lip, tears already falling from her eyes as she clutched her left ankle desperately. Bent at an awkward angle, and a bruise already forming, she didn't have to be a doctor to know it was broken. Adrenaline managing to numb the pain _slightly, _Clara jumped up on her good foot, only to collapse back to the ground with another sob.

The Cybermen were already almost upon her, and Clara settled for crawling as quick as she could. Knees and palms already bruised and bloody, her tracks slowed. She could hear the metal men's deathly march growing closer and closer. Risking a glance back, she realised with wide eyes that it was too late. They were about to catch her.

And they did. The closest Cyberman reached down and grabbed Clara's upper arm, hauling her up with no effort. She squeezed her eyes shut, determined not to cry out again in pain as it lowered her to the ground on her injured ankle. Shifting her weight to her right leg, she jerked and hopped, trying desperately to break free, but it held her tight.

"You will come with us." It's robotic, toneless voice said.

"Not likely." Clara retorted, trying to keep her defiance and confidence strong even though she knew there was no point.

"You will become Cyberkind. You will become like us." The rest of the army marched away, while the monster holding Clara tightened his grip, and stomped off in the opposite direction.

"Where are you taking me?!" She demanded, trying to keep up so that her foot wouldn't drag.

"Cybermen do not answer questions. You will become like us." It's stride never faltered nor halted.

_So I'm gonna be converted._ She thought with a pang. _They're gonna turn me into a heartless killing machine like them... _"No!" She twisted and tugged, willing to do whatever it took to get free. The Cyberman's grip just tightened even more, causing Clara to hiss in pain and reduce her struggles.

She had no choice but to obey as it led her to a tall, silver vessel. Their ship, Clara decided, dreading now more than ever what would take place upon entering. The Cyberman ushered her inside, passing her off to one of it's awaiting friends. During the brief moment that no silver hand was grasping her, she tried to make a run for it, but her ankle wouldn't let her get far enough away. They caught her, grabbed her tight, and led her down the corridor.

Flashing lights led the path to a dark, cold room. So cold that Clara was left shivering as soon as she took her first step inside. Screams and desperate pleads echoed throughout as the metal men set to work on their victims. Tearing them apart, both physically and mentally, converting each and every one to be like them.

Clara cried her protests as she was led further in. She scanned the area, looking for any sign of the Doctor. She'd almost feel better seeing him here than alive, than out there dead somewhere. Even if death would soon result in being in here.

The metal glove gripping her shoulder led her to a secondary room inside the first, completed with tables, straps, and terrifying, sharp tools looming overhead. One table remained empty, while the rest held screaming, frightened victims, who were dreading what would be done to them in mere moments.

"No!" Clara shouted again as she was forced down onto the table. Straps were put over her wrists, chest, and ankles.

"Clara!" A male voice screamed.

Clara looked around frantically with wide, hopeful eyes, hoping to see the sight of her heroic Doctor, sonic screwdriver in hand and a victorious look in his eye.

But what she saw was a familiar, scared face, strapped down to the table next to her.

It was Damon.

**A/N: Please please please review! And send me some prompts for the new Whouffle collection fic I'm working on :)**


	14. Words Win Wars

**A/N: Okay. When I say NOW, play Words Win Wars from the Season 5 soundtrack. ;)**

_Chapter 14_

"Clara!" Damon howled, twisting and pulling against the uncomfortable restraints. "Clara, what are you doing here?!"

"What do you think?" She shouted across the room. "Looking for you and the Doctor! What happened?!"

"Couldn't find 'im! Didn't make it long out there before this lot came and captured me!"

Clara closed her eyes, banging her head against the table. "This is all my fault. If the Doctor and I had never separated..."

"Don't say that. None of this is your fault. We're gonna get out of this, don't you worry." Damon assured her, but Clara was barely listening.

(**NOW!**)

"Hello? Hello? Is this thing working?" A booming voice came from overhead, causing everyone's gaze's to wander all around the room.

The voice caused Clara's heart to stop. It felt like forever by the time it started beating again, falling out of rhythm in the midst of her anxiety...and relief.

"Good. Okay. Well, hello, hello! How are you all doing today? Good? Glad to hear it. Now," The Doctor's voice came falling down like a welcomed rain. "I have a request. Not really a request as much as a demand, well...more of a demand, yes! You have something that belongs to me."

Near the front of the room, lights flashed, and the heroic figure of the Doctor appeared in the fog. "And I want her back. And _I _am going to get her! You know why?" He let out a victorious laugh, raising his eyes to the ceiling. "Because I AM THE DOCTOR. I've lived for over a thousand years! I'm a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey, I've got two hearts, 27 figurative brains, and a mouth that is screaming;" He jumped down to the same level as everyone else, eyes wandering around and falling upon each Cyberman. "You are going to give Clara back to me, and you are going to release every single one of these innocent people! You hear me? Every last one of them! And if you don't."

He wandered about the room, daring anyone to lay a hand on them. "Let's just say there's a reason that I'm called the Oncoming Storm."

"It's him!" Damon exclaimed.

"Doctor!" Clara shouted, feeling like crying with the amount of relief swarming through her. As soon as the Doctor's eyes rested on her, the brightest, happiest of all smiles stretched across his face.

"Good. You didn't hurt her. Because if you did, well, let's not get into that." He glanced around the room with a tsk. "I see you've gone old fashion. The converting process was much more sophisticated last time I saw it! Shame. Oh, and sorry I couldn't have come sooner." He reached into his jacket pocket, revealing his sonic screwdriver. "Had to pop back to earth to get the old sonic." He gave it a little toss, then thrust it towards the ceiling. "Now. Release them all. This is your one and only chance."

A Cyberman took a brave step forwards. "You are identified as the Doctor. You will be deleted!"

"Like I said. One chance." His thumb bore down on the button, and the piercing green light emitted from the top of the device. "Light's out! Literally!" The room went dark, completely pitch black, leaving the Cybermen and victims in nothingness.

Clara didn't dare to speak out, but couldn't help but scan the blind area for any sign of the Doctor. Her mind swarmed with a million thoughts, and her heart thudded relentlessly against her ribs. She could hear the metallic pounding of the Cybermen's footsteps, who were equally searching blindly for their biggest foe.

"Doctor?" She managed to hiss out, praying that her words fell upon all deaf ears, except for the Doctors.

She heard another metallic screech, but this time the sound gave way to the relieved pressure of the restraints being released from her limbs. Realising she was free, and hearing the sound of the panicking victims fleeing the room without much difficulty, Clara dared to sit up on the uncomfortable, frightening table. Looking around, still unable to see anything in the deep blackness, she swung her legs off the side of the table, lowering herself to the ground. In the midst of the rushing adrenaline, and her one thought being finding the Doctor and escaping, all thoughts of her injured ankle were absent. She let out a gasp of pain, expecting to feel the cold stony ground against her outstretched palms, but instead felt warm, comforting arms wrapped around her, hoisting her upwards, and sending her collapsing onto the familiar form.

"Miss me?"

Clara was enveloped into his embrace, wrapping her small arms around his muscular frame. "I thought you were dead." She muttered into his jacket, and his only immediate response was the action of pulling her close.

"Nah, you're not getting rid of me that easily." Even in the dark, she could tell he was smiling. He pulled back, grabbing her hand tight. "We've gotta go." But as soon as he set off, he froze in his tracks just as quick as he heard Clara's cry of pain. "What's wrong?" He asked worriedly, grabbing her shoulders and lowering his eyes level with hers.

"Think I broke my ankle." She whispered, clutching her leg and squeezing her eyes shut.

Before the Doctor could respond, the lights flickered on, resulting in a wince from the two real people remaining in the room.

"And that's our cue!" He draped Clara's arm over his shoulders, wrapping his other arm around her waist and pulling her close. He half led, half dragged her in the direction of the exit. They were closely pursued, but were far enough away by the time they were almost out for the Doctor to do one last thing.

"You know..." He spun around, Clara still held tightly next to him. The Cybermen were still several paces away, and they all came to a halt as the Doctor's eyes made a connection with their hollow ones. "There's something you've not done yet...something very important..."

"What is that?" The closest one questioned.

He frowned. "Did you pay _no _attention to my long inspirational well thought-out speech?!" He shouted angrily. "Honestly! So difficult to find foes these days with proper etiquette."

"What is it we should be doing?" The Cyberman questioned again with a raised voice.

"I'm the Oncoming Storm..." The Doctor just smirked, shifting Clara's weight a little on his side, and turned around. His voice echoed ominously from beyond the corridors, sending shivers down the monster's metallic, robotic spines.

"Start preparing for rain."

**A/N: Just a chapter or two left! **

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	15. I Meant It

**A/N: Here it is! The final chapter. Thank you to all who have been with this story since the beginning.  
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**Enjoy!**

_Chapter 15  
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"Why aren't they following us?" Clara questioned, leaning quite heavily on the Doctor by now as she limped out of the ship.

"Excellent question!" The Doctor piped, one hand wrapped around her waist while the other held her arm over his shoulders. "And one that I don't have the answer to." He glanced back at the vessel, which was growing smaller and smaller as their distance from it widened.

"Another question," She continued. "Why aren't we doing anything to stop them?" She looked the Doctor in the eyes. "We've seen the destruction they cause in the future. We should be doing something about it."

"But that's just it." He told her. "We've seen what happens and the future, and we've fixed what's happened - in the future. If we change now what we're not supposed to interfere with for a long while, it'll create a paradox. Which will do much more destruction than the biggest Cyberman army could."

Clara solely nodded in acceptance. The Doctor couldn't help but noticed her strides were growing slower, and her face was becoming contorted in obvious pain. Her gaze was suddenly fixed on the ground, and her hold on him tightened.

"Want to sit down a minute?" He suggested.

"Nah." She shook her head. "I'm okay. How close is the TARDIS?"

"Gonna be about another ten minute walk." He watched her expression, which seemed to be almost one of submission.

"Could we take just a short break?" She asked reluctantly.

The Doctor simply smiled. "'Course we can." He shifted her weight a bit against his side, and led her over to a small bench in the midst of the amusement park.

"Sorry." Clara laughed a bit, plopping herself down with a shadow of a grimace.

"Not a bother!" He assured her. Instead of sitting himself next to her, he crouched on the ground, taking her foot delicately in one hand. "How'd you say this happened?" He asked, trying to distract her a bit as he peeled off her sneaker.

"When I was..." She closed her eyes and gasped from the sudden burst of pain, but it only lasted a moment. "When the Cybermen were chasing me." She admitted.

"I should have never let us get separated." He sighed with regret, busying himself with rolling up the base of the leg of her jeans. "Ouch." He winced.

"That bad?" She prompted, leaning over to get a glimpse.

"Not really." He lied, twisting her leg ever so slightly to get a better look. "Nothing a few minutes in the infirmary won't fix!" He removed her other shoe before standing up.

"What'd you do that for?"

"You look daft in one shoe." The Doctor leaned forward, slipping both his arms under Clara and earning a surprised protest. He hoisted her up. "You'll just make it worse by walking on it. And we'll make it back quicker this way." He promised.

Clara looked as if she were about to give a sharp retort, but instead found herself relaxing into his grasp. With a sigh, her tensed up shoulders loosened, and she allowed him to carry her the rest of the way to the TARDIS.

"Here we are!" The Doctor chimed, bumping the doors open with his hip and stepping inside.

"You can put me down now." Clara glared at him.

"No need!" He carried her all the way to this infirmary and sat her on the uncomfortable sterile bed.

"So..." Clara began, trying to get comfortable. "We need to talk."

"Do we?" He asked distractedly, rummaging through various drawers. He returned to her side a moment later, cast supplies in hand. He set them down, then grabbed Clara's dainty legs and placed them up on the bed with her.

Clara was silent for a moment, contemplating on which direction to take the conversation.

"Did you get your memories back?"

The Doctor stopped his work, then brought his eyes to hers with a faint smile. "Yes."

"All of them?"

"Yep!"

"You remember everything?"

"Yes, Clara. Yes!" He laughed, wrapping Clara in an excited hug. "And I have you to thank for it." His smiled remained as he began examining her ankle. His expression darkened, growing nervous after a few more seconds.

"What's wrong?"

"Gonna have to set it." His eyes were full of apology. "It's gonna hurt." His hand hovered over her foot. "I can put you to sleep if you want."

"That's okay, just..." She bit her lip. "Keep talkin' to me. Do it when I'm distracted."

His eyes softened. "All right."

"So when did you start remembering?" She questioned, trying to forget about the soon coming pain.

"Shortly after we were separated." He responded, keeping himself busy with preparing supplies that were seated right beside her feet. "As soon as I did, took a quick trip back to Earth for the sonic."

"_That's _the first thing you went for?" Clara laughed. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Oi, it comes in handy!" He defended himself and his sonic screwdriver, patting his jacket where the device was pocketed inside.

"I'm just glad that -" She broke off as the Doctor grabbed her hand with a rapid action, squeezing her hand as he popped her injured bone back into its correct position. Clara bit down on her lip hard, gripping the Doctor's hand tighter than ever as she let out a brief, involuntary cry of pain. The pain soon subsided to a degree, and she forced herself to relax.

"I'm so sorry." The Doctor kissed her hand before setting to work again. The far less painful portion of the job.

"Ow." She said with a laugh. "That was nice." She laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

He gave her a lopsided smile. Neither said anymore for several minutes until the Doctor had the cast in place and pain pills in hand. "All finished! These will help with a bit of the soreness tonight."

"Thank you, Doctor." She swallowed the tiny pills with the water provided. There was a bit of an awkward silence and a few exchanged glances. Neither of them said anything, just sat side by side on the bed, trying to avoid the inevitable conversation.

"There's more we need to talk about." Clara began hesitantly.

The Doctor sighed, closing his eyes and lowering his head. His hands were clasped in this lap, twitching nervously. "I know."

"The things you said...the things...I...said." She stumbled over her words. "You remember all that?"

"Of course I do. It was still me then, just without all my other memories." He told her.

"Yeah, I know." She muttered, waiting for the Doctor to say something else. She was at a loss for words.

"I..." He began, but could barely form a coherent word. "I meant it, you know."

"You..." Clara stuttered, bringing her shocked eyes to his. "You what?"

"I meant it, Clara. Everything I said to you. I may have not had my memories, but it was still me. It was me having no boundaries, nothing in my mind blocking me from revealing how I feel. But how I _felt _was the same...the same as ever. But we both know those feelings can never be acted on." He looked away."

Clara blinked. "Why are you telling me this, then?"

"I just...felt like you needed to know." He fidgeted awkwardly.

"Well, just for the record, I meant everything I said too." She nudged his shoulder affectionately.

The Doctor smiled softly, and let out a barely audible smile. "I know you did."

"So what's holding you back?" She dared to ask, gaze never leaving his blank eyes.

"I don't get older, Clara." He raised his voice suddenly. "I regenerate. Over and over, I simply regenerate. Changing my face again and again, while all the while you grow old. I can't grow old with you, I'll just change my face. A different man every time I die. And it's not fair!" He shouted suddenly, slamming his fists on the bed and walking off, only to turn back a moment later.

Clara furrowed her eyebrows in sudden sadness, hopping off the bed. She limped over to the Doctor with a shaky, yet confident stride. His eyes were closed as he leaned against the wall, so he didn't anticipate the light kiss that Clara planted on his lips. His eyes shot open and he back away, unceremoniously whacking his head on the wall.

"Doctor," Clara laughed, hands on his shoulders. He no longer attempted to flinch away. "I'll love you no matter how many times your face changes. And you should know that."

The Doctor blinked, involuntary tears beginning to burn his eyes. He brushed some hair from Clara's eyes, placing his hand on her cheek, inflicting a smile from both of them. "My Clara..." He laughed, then crashed his lips into hers. One hand came to rest on her lower back while the other combed through her hair, pulling her close to him as he fulfilled the long overdue closeness. Clara responded immediately, gripping the lapels of his jacket with her tiny fists.

When they finally broke apart, it was just before the two blacked out from lack of oxygen. They both smiled brightly, enveloping each other in the warmest hug to dominate all hugs.

"I love you." They both whispered at the same time, giggling in result.

And then they just stood there. Seconds, minutes, hours, they didn't know. They didn't care. But they were finally together again, and they had finally revealed their true feelings. Time Lord or not, human or not, they'd work around every obstacle. Every little thing that stood in their way. Nothing would break them apart.

Maybe it was impossible.

Maybe they just had their heads in the clouds.

But that was okay.

**A/N: Wow, got a bit cheesy there at the end. Oh well.**

**Thanks to all my loyal readers! Hope you enjoyed it :)**

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